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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23193661">An Uchiha’s Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdamnuchiha/pseuds/thatdamnuchiha'>thatdamnuchiha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MadaSaku Week 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Dead Uchiha Sasuke, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Founding of Konoha, Haruno Sakura-centric, Konohagakure | Hidden Leaf Village, MadaSaku Week, MadaSaku Week 2020, Mokuton, Mokuton User Haruno Sakura, POV Haruno Sakura, POV Senju Tobirama, POV Uchiha Madara, Past Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Izuna, Past Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Pre-Canon, Protective Haruno Sakura, Raising a Child, Reincarnation, Sasuke was Izuna, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Strong Haruno Sakura, Time Travel, Uchiha Izuna (mentioned) - Freeform, Uchiha Sasuke (mentioned) - Freeform, Women Being Awesome</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:29:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>29,752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23193661</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdamnuchiha/pseuds/thatdamnuchiha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Uchiha Sasuke had lived before, born as one Uchiha Izuna.</p><p>Sakura didn’t care. She loved him, even with the baggage from both of his lives, but when Sasuke dies and Sakura finds herself in the Warring States Period with their son – it would be a task and a half to explain. Her son looks far too much like his father. Hiding that fact is easy – she just moves to a remote village in the middle of nowhere.</p><p>But fate has a way of making her life a misery, and its name is none other than Uchiha Madara.<br/> </p><p> <br/>  <strong>Day 4 (18/3)<br/>•	Time Travel AU<br/>•	Romantic<br/>•	“Please tell me you didn’t.”</strong></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>MadaSaku Week 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>295</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Naruto Treasured Gems, Of Tales and Tears, Reverse The Hourglass: Sakura Edition, Strong BAMF Sakura, The Many Iterations of Haruno Sakura</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Premise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 4 is here... earlier than usual.</p><p>I just love starting long fics for some reason. Why do I do this to myself I wonder? Oh well. This is yet another slooow burn, like 'Haruno', because I'm a sucker for them.</p><p>Day 4 (18/3)<br/>•	Time Travel AU<br/>•	Romantic<br/>•	“Please tell me you didn’t.”</p><p>Enjoy. Prompt 3 will surface much much much later. As will number 2. Because this is a slow build and slow burn. Yay.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fate was a strange, mysterious thing – one which toyed with the lives of an unfortunate few on a whim. Senju Tobirama and Uchiha Madara were among that small number, and neither of them were particularly happy with their current situation.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>They were in the recently appointed Hokage’s office, the walls a stark, clinical white much like the hospital’s own. Tobirama thought that best though – better than some of the obnoxious colours his idiotic brother had wished to paint the walls, anyhow. Hashirama was now further proving his own idiocy too, with the idiotic mission he wished to assign to the pair of them. Why he thought pairing both himself and <em>Madara </em>was a good idea, Tobirama would never understand. He wished to stay out of the way of the sole remaining Uchiha of the main line. He had been the one to deal the wound which ultimately killed Izuna, and Madara was never about to let him forget that fact with his scathing, spiteful comments.</p><p>It was nothing new, but that didn’t mean he was fine with the way things were. He hated feeling the Uchiha’s eyes on his back, burrowing like kunai whenever their paths crossed in the thankfully spacious village.</p><p>Hashirama smiled sunnily, oblivious as always to the heavy air between him and the Uchiha. “It’ll be good for you, Tobi…” he said, pressing the mission scroll into his waiting hands. “You and Madara will have a chance to… work things out, and you’ll be contributing to the village whilst you’re doing so!”</p><p>His hands closed around the scroll almost reflexively as his brother let it go, and he was left standing there, the dull blue scroll in his hands adorned with the symbol for the Land of Frost telling him it would be a very long mission indeed. There was no point in fighting his elder brother on the matter either. That much Tobirama knew already. Hashirama was a tidal wave of change, sweeping up every single thing in his path, and now his mind was set on mending the rift which had grown between his dear brother and his beloved best friend. Even if he rejected the mission, he would just be given another, much more tedious one with the exact same company.</p><p>Breathing out a sigh of exasperation, he broke the wax seal embossed with the stylised leaf they had decided on for Konoha’s symbol. It was to be his first larger mission for Konoha, it seemed, and Tobirama had no doubts it would be the worst one yet. Madara huffed loudly behind him, as if to echo his sentiments exactly. He would just have to deal with more of those, and the deadly glares which would no doubt be sent his way in the coming weeks given their joint mission together.</p><p>He could have easily handled any mission with any Uchiha other than the one standing slightly behind him. His skin crawled at leaving himself so full of openings – but his brother was there, and Madara wasn’t likely to do anything with Hashirama around. He just worried for when Hashirama <em>wasn’t </em>around.</p><p>Still, Hashirama was happily oblivious to the killing intent which seemed to waft off the Uchiha every time he caught a glimpse of his white-haired self. Tobirama could never seem to bring his brother to notice it either. Or perhaps he did – which was why he was trying to repair the bond between them in a most unorthodox way. Not that there had ever really been a bond between aside from being mutual enemies who had often tried to maim each other when their missions had coincided.</p><p>Tobirama’s reasoning had been simple: the more maimed the Uchiha was, the safer his brother would be. He had never aimed to kill the man either, if only to spare himself the sad looks Hashirama would send his way if he somehow managed to get lucky. If there was one thing he would never have been able to stomach it would be his brother’s ire. Madara meant a lot to him. Tobirama respected that, and it was only that fact which didn’t have him outright refusing every single mission with the Uchiha.</p><p>Tobirama could still remember the Uchiha’s blood-spattered form amidst the corpses of his own clan members, and his blood burnt at the memory. They had killed each other in battles, Uchiha and Senju, and the Uchiha behind him was most definitely harbouring a grudge over that fact. His loyalty to his clan was rabid, and to the memory of his brother even more so.</p><p>“Frost Country?” he inquired, quirking an eyebrow at the sheer distance they would have to travel, and also the sheer time he would be forced to spend in the Uchiha’s presence.</p><p>Hashirama nodded, smile still set upon his lips – it was practically a permanent fixture on his face now that the village was being built under his leadership. “Given the lack of local clans native to that region, a group of villages banded together and sent in a request for our aid.” He clapped his hands together. “It seems word of our burgeoning village has even reached their ears, so be sure to make a good impression when you arrive there.”</p><p>“What mission could possibly require the both of us,” Madara grumbled, arms folded across his chest. “Surely your brother isn’t so incompetent he can’t handle a little delivery by himself.”</p><p>Tobirama bristled at the tone, biting his lip to keep himself from snapping a reply to those taunting words. Madara just wanted to get under his skin, he reminded himself. He was like that, and he took enjoyment from making his life a misery.</p><p>“Snow wolves.”</p><p>Blinking, he took a few moments to register the name of the creature. It was a simple name, for a simple, brutish kind of wolf, but to him it was somewhat special. He could still remember sitting around the hearth with Kawarama and Itama, huddling close as their mother regaled them with stories about her adventures before she had married into the Senju Clan. She had told them of the snow wolves she had hunted as part of her coming-of-age rite – the same creature from which the sinfully soft pelt around his neck came. Now his brother was giving him a chance to follow in their mother’s footsteps, though he had long since passed the age of <em>the hunt </em>for the Hatake Clan from which his mother was sent.</p><p>“Huh.” Tobirama paused.</p><p>Perhaps there was something to look forward to on the mission after all.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The wound in his heart ached like it was still raw.</p><p>Every time he caught a glimpse of that white hair, jealousy and rage rose in his chest, and now it seemed he would be forced to travel with the cold-hearted bastard for longer than he would have liked. He pitied Hashirama for being forced to deal with such a brother, though he certainly seemed to have enough cheer for the both of them. But then again, that was part of what he liked about his irritating friend. He couldn’t say the same about his younger brother. The younger Senju was taller than him, and he often wondered if Izuna would have grown to be just as tall had his life not been cut short.</p><p>His eyes narrowed, a scowl pulling on his lips as he glared into the back of the white-haired Senju. He had stolen away the last of his brothers. Hashirama got to keep at least one, even if he was a literal icicle. All he ever seemed to do was berate his friend, and rarely did Madara see him go over for dinner. Though perhaps that was part of the reason he felt fine to occasionally meet with his friend for dinner. He didn’t have to worry about a certain Senju interrupting the pair of them, and Madara was content with that. He loathed Senju Tobirama, and both of them knew that fact – in fact, it was probably just that which made the Senju look so uncomfortable with the mission assignment they had been given.</p><p>“Snow wolves,” he echoed, tilting his head contemplatively as the icicle stopped looking disgusted at the prospect of a mission with him. “What sort of creatures are they?”</p><p>“Wolves,” Tobirama inputted oh so helpfully.</p><p>“I really had not guessed,” he said dryly, casting a glance Hashirama’s way, eyebrow raised in question – but his friend ignored the <em>is this really a good idea </em>eyebrow, settling instead for smiling at the pair of them as he began his explanation into the beasts they would be eliminating as per request.</p><p>“They’re vicious creatures which prey on everything they come across,” Hashirama said, nodding at his brother. “Tobi could probably tell you more about them – he always loved listening to our mother’s—”</p><p>“Anija!” Tobirama snarled, glaring at him in a way which made Madara want for Hashirama to continue the little story. He took enjoyment in ribbing the Senju whenever possible. He wanted that stone-cold face to turn red with embarrassment – wanted him to grow angry – wanted him to give him a reason to beat him bloody. He craved the thrill of a fight as some shinobi did, loving the thrum of adrenaline when he faced a strong opponent. Hashirama’s fights had given him that, and Tobirama was a shinobi of a similar calibre, if of a different skillset. Fighting him would give him an outlet for the burgeoning bubble of hate welling up in his chest, but the last thing he wanted was to kill Hashirama’s brother.</p><p>It would destroy everything they had worked for, and Madara was tired of the constant bloodshed between their clans. He was tired of seeing children die at the hands of the bloodthirsty hatred which had grown unchecked. He didn’t have any family left to lose, and that fact burnt, but others of his clan did, and he wouldn’t let his selfishness take that chance of peace and happiness away from them. If it was for his clan, then he could bear with the white-haired bastard who’d killed numerous members of his family. Konoha was a new start, and it would give them the peace he and Hashirama sought.</p><p>“Are they strong?” he asked, curious as to their strength. It would be awfully boring if they were weak little things which died from a single blow. He stared at Hashirama, eyebrow quirked for a different sort of question; <em>will it be boring? </em></p><p>“Most definitely.”</p><p>Madara folded his arms, satisfied. “Hn. When do we leave, Senju? Is an hour long enough for you to gather your wits, or do you perhaps need a little longer?”</p><p>“You are both permitted to bring along another clansman,” Hashirama informed, cutting his brother off before he could spit words out from behind clenched teeth. “You are both unfamiliar with the Land of Frost, but I know some of our clansmen have ventured there before.”</p><p>Madara looked away, ignoring Hashirama as he sat back down behind his desk – mission assignment completed – his heart clenching painfully again. Izuna had always been eager to take the missions to the Land of Frost whenever the opportunity had arisen. Something about the scenery up there being beautiful was what he had said.</p><p>Izuna had always enjoyed the snows when they came, and he would miss the coming ones too. It would be his first winter all alone. So perhaps it was better he would be going north with one of his kin. His clan was growing distant from him the more days he spent cooped up in his newly made house – and it was just a house. It would never be home. Not without family, and he had no intention of starting one.</p><p>Children hated him. It was a fact he had grown accustomed to. Still, it wasn’t like he would be able to find a woman willing to lie with him and create a family together. His temperament, his obsession with strength, his almost fanatical loyalty to his clan all apparently made him odd – and not many women he had come across liked that oddness. Not many had met his standards either. He loved strength, so just how could he love a woman who didn’t have an ounce either mentally or physically? His clan prided themselves on their love, and it showed through their eyes. There was no possible way he could marry without a spark to set match to the flame. Loneliness was that which he was destined for, much to the consternation of the Clan Elders.</p><p>“Hikaku is familiar with that area,” he remarked, walking towards the office door. “By the gates in an hour, Senju, and bring that scroll with you.” With that said, he stormed from the office, quashing the bitter taste that rose at the thought of spending however many weeks in close proximity to the Senju Heir.</p><p>Not that he would remain the heir for very long, given the size of the Uzumaki’s belly. Their baby was due soon he knew, and they would be raised in a time of peace.</p><p>Madara tried to snuff the jealousy that reared its ugly head once more.</p><p>How he wished he could have a family too.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>She missed him.</p><p>Sighing quietly to herself, she stood behind the hearth build at the very centre of her home. Silently, she stirred at the pot of soup cooking over the naked flame. Stoves or cookers, as some liked to call them, were relatively new to the world, and in the backwater little village in the middle of the Land of Frost, they hadn’t quite made it there as of yet. But Sakura could make do. She had already adapted to her new life, having been there for five whole years. “Five years,” she whispered, closing her eyes as she sat back.</p><p>Despite the time passed, she could still feel the sense of guilt and hopelessness she had felt that day when everything she had known and loved had come crashing down around her. She had loved him dearly, no matter his name nor the sheer amount of grief he had carried. Sakura liked to think she had eased the burden on him somewhat, but she couldn’t be certain. Now though, he was dead. She had cradled his cooling body desperately wishing she could revive the dead with her healing hands – but she couldn’t.</p><p>A small, wheezing cough stirred her from her thoughts, and Sakura took the soup from over the fire, pouring out a small bowlful, along with the fluffy soft bread she had procured from the small, local bakery. Extinguishing the fire, she then made her way over to a small room tucked away in the very corner of her home, sliding open the door with barely a sound. Her footsteps were silent, like the well-trained kunoichi she was, and a smile broke out onto her face as a pair of large black eyes opened groggily.</p><p>“Kaa-chan?”</p><p>“That’s right, little bean,” she whispered, pushing his damp locks back from his slightly larger than average forehead. It was something he had undoubtedly inherited from her. “You hungry? I made soup.”</p><p>“Yes please!” he chirped, erupting in a fit of coughing which had her rubbing his back soothingly until they subsided and she went to fetch his lunch. He was a growing boy after all, and he was usually always hungry thanks to his seemingly bottomless pit which had replaced his stomach.</p><p>“Eat up, Sasuke,” she murmured, watching him as he ate. Sasuke – her Sasuke – had never laid claim to that name. He’d always asked her to call him by the name which he had borne before. <em>Izuna</em>. So she had given her son the name her husband had never wanted to take, and it was why she stayed far away from the Land of Fire, out up in the middle of nowhere, where the only things to worry about were villagers, winters, and the occasional snow wolf.</p><p>Not that the wolves would ever touch her son.</p><p>She had driven them off more than once, and they had seemingly learnt swiftly not to come near her part of the village. Her days were more peaceful from then on, not that she let up with keeping her body and instincts in shape. She was in the Warring States Period, and those weren’t kind to the undertrained and the ill prepared, especially when one had a small life depending on their own.</p><p>“Kaa-chan!”</p><p>The sound had her popping her head back into her son’s room. “What is it?” she inquired, coming to crouch at his side when she spotted the cute frown forming on his face. “Is the room not warm enough? We have spare blankets—”</p><p>“Why don’t I have a tou-san?” He stared at the sheets in front of him, crumpling them between his small fingers as a frown marred his brow. “Minami was teasing me about it… and Yuki says all kids are supposed to have a tou-san… I don’t get it.”</p><p>Sakura sighed, seating herself on the edge of his bed, pulling him into a hug. “So this is what’s been bothering you these last couple of weeks, huh?”</p><p>“Kaa-chan?”</p><p>Sakura stared at the ceiling, willing back the tears which sometimes threatened to spill when she thought of the love of her life and how he’d been ripped away from her along with any who might be able to support her. <em>But in some ways she liked it. </em>Nobody there knew who she’d been. Nobody there would pity her for being <em>his </em>girlfriend and lover. They hadn’t understood him like she had. “Do you want me to tell you about him, then?” she asked, voice soft as she turned to stare at the only piece of Izuna she had left. “Your father…”</p><p>Sasuke turned to her, excitement written across his face. She wondered if he got that from her. Izuna never really had been very expressive. “Really? You’ll tell me about him?”</p><p>“When I first met him, he went by a different name, but later he introduced himself to me properly as Izuna…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Flight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Snow crunched under his sandals as he ploughed on into the wintery weather, and Madara grumbled under his breath. What he wouldn’t give to be in Suna, warm, dry, and not <em>fucking </em>wet… It was a trial for his fragile patience, especially with how the Senju seemed perfectly content what with his fluffy excuse of a scarf. His chakra circulated well, despite the ongoing misery, keeping his body warm, especially his toes and other extremities. He did not want frostbite. Nobody in their right mind would.</p><p><em>And yet some morons still decided to live in a snow-ridden country. </em>Madara snorted derisively, kicking at some of the soft white flakes. The Land of Fire was far better, and even if it snowed in winters it was generally mild and went away as soon as spring rolled around.</p><p>Some part of his brain whispered to him in a tone vaguely reminiscent of Izuna that he was just being petulant about the cold. His heart clenched, expression barely shifting as he longed for the familiar, comforting presence of his brother.</p><p><em>But he was gone, and he was never coming back… all thanks to… </em>His eyes roamed over onto that snowy white head of hair, and his heart ached that much more. He shouldn’t have listened when Izuna forbade him from even considering peace with the Senju. <em>Maybe then he would have been alive and well. </em>His shoulders sunk minutely. There was no point in dwelling on that – no matter how hard he tried he would never be able to see his brother again. <em>He just needed to hurry up and accept that fact. </em>He just needed to hurry up and forget the ghost of his presence.</p><p>Cold bit at his eyes, drawing his attention to the traitorous tears which wanted to escape at the thought of his dead brother. But he was outside now – not that it mattered – and he was with company. Two Senju and Hikaku. There was no way he was breaking down and lamenting the mess of his life just yet or ever.</p><p>He was the head of the Uchiha Clan, and he couldn’t afford for others to see his weakness. Shinobi were wolves, and they pounced and preyed upon weakness. <em>He wouldn’t give them his. </em>Only Izuna had been allowed to see that – and that was the way it would stay.</p><p>“How much longer until we reach the village that requested our aid?” he asked, beyond irritated by that point. <em>He hated the cold – which was why he’d been more than happy to leave wintery missions to others of his kin. </em>Tobirama’s presence was a constant thorn in his side, reminding that snide voice in the back of his head that this was his brother’s <em>murderer. </em></p><p>“Four hours of travel, but it would be best to stop soon considering night is falling,” Hikaku informed him, curt and to the point, as per usual.</p><p>Grunting, Madara faced forwards, glaring at the snow like it personally offended him. Just four hours, and then however long it took to track down the pesky wolves… and then he’d be on his way back to the warmth of the Land of Fire.</p><p>A smile curved at his lips, though it probably looked more like a smirk. According to his clansmen he <em>couldn’t </em>smile. A fact he didn’t bother to correct, given how rare his genuine smiles were. Only Izuna had ever really seen them before, and he’d freaked out and told him it was creepy. <em>The brat. </em>Pain rang through his heart yet again, but Madara only chuckled quietly. <em>Look at him being all sentimental. </em>Sentiment wasn’t something he needed in the world of shinobi. <em>Cast off emotions, </em>he told himself, sending more chakra to his feet, he upped the speed, ignoring the knowing glance he received from Hikaku. His clansman knew he wasn’t keen on the cold, but he said nothing – so everything was fine.</p><p>“Uchiha!” Tobirama hissed.</p><p>Madara turned to face him, eyebrow raised. “What’s the matter, Senju? Can’t keep up? Need me to slow down for you?” he asked, taking pride in the annoyance which crossed the Senju’s face. His smirk came back in full force, and he ignored the small sigh Hikaku let out as they continued on their way. Evidently he didn’t understand the joy of annoying Senju Tobirama, not that Madara cared.</p><p>He could annoy the Senju enough on his lonesome.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tobirama scowled at the campfire in front of them, taking no comfort in the genjutsu Madara had supposedly cast around them. It would be just like the Uchiha to leave him the only visible and vulnerable one as they made camp for the night. Traps had been set, most using the shuriken and wire the Uchiha so loved. Tobirama was content in not moving in the slightest that night. Knowing the Uchiha Clan Head there were probably some nasty ones designed especially for him.</p><p><em>An accident, </em>they would call it. Tobirama sneered. It would be so much simpler if Madara could stop glaring and taunting him, but that was probably just a dream. He didn’t seem to understand that it wasn’t like Tobirama could have just refrained from killing Izuna. They had both been fighting with their lives on the line, unlike his brother and the oaf over there.</p><p>He clicked his tongue, ignoring the soft look Touka sent his way as he prepared to settle down for the night. They’d already had dinner, having hunted one of the elk native to that region. Tobirama loathed to say that Madara had been the one to catch it, despite them both tracking it down.</p><p>“Get some rest,” Touka said, patting his shoulder not that he’d removed the armour in order to sleep – a luxury he didn’t always have, given shinobi ordinarily needed to be ready to fight at a moments notice. But Madara had removed his, trusting in his genjutsu to keep people away. <em>It felt like a taunt, </em>like everything with the Uchiha always did.</p><p>He was a bad influence to everyone around him, including his clan. His chakra felt like toxic water, malice always radiating from it like a storm cloud before the thunder sounded and the lightning struck. Tobirama would have loved nothing more than to be as far away from it as possible, but thanks to his brother’s stupidity that wouldn’t be happening for the next few days.</p><p>Just a couple more hours of travel, then it would be onto dealing with the snow wolves… and then he could go back home and avoid the Uchiha for a week at least. <em>How his brother could stand the man he didn’t understand… </em></p><p>Scowling, Tobirama shut his eyes, content in the knowledge that Touka was taking the first watch. He trusted her far more than he trusted the Uchiha to watch his back. Though Hikaku was alright in his opinion. <em>There were no glares, nor was there any of that poisonous chakra choking at his lungs when he used his sensory abilities. </em></p><p>All in all, it wasn’t the worst night he’d had – though it certainly wasn’t the best either. <em>Madara was there on the mission, so it was either going to be the worst or only slightly better than that.</em></p><p> </p><p>Morning came around sooner than he would have liked, the chirping of birds native to Frost Country greeting him as he woke, and then it was back to dealing with the Uchiha – a trial and a half given the poor night sleep he’d just had. He was fairly sure both of their travelling companions were acting as a buffer between him and the antagonistic Uchiha, what with how Touka had placed herself between him and Madara’s glaring stare.</p><p>Tobirama was grateful for it, even if he never said it aloud. <em>That would only result in some scathing comment from Madara’s end. </em>The thought made his lip curl. <em>He’d love it nothing more than if the Uchiha would just shut up and hate him silently. </em>But Madara wasn’t about to do just that, being the petty, spiteful Uchiha that he was.</p><p>“Almost there,” Hikaku informed them, and Tobirama felt it then as he stretched out his sensory range. The blazing lights of chakra signals clustered together in a settlement, all of them civilians… <em>aside from two. </em>He opened his eyes, narrowing them at the two larger signals which weren’t simple civilians. They belonged to shinobi and the oddest was a little child’s one… which tasted like fire, ash, and butter. It was familiar in an odd way, and too large to belong to anything but a clan child. How it was so recognizable, Tobirama couldn’t place his finger on. Only that he had undoubtedly sensed something similar before.</p><p>But what really made him pause and suck in a sharp breath was the larger signature. The adult one. The same one which tasted like spring water and earth, like flowers and leaves of young trees. <em>Just like his brother’s own chakra signature. </em></p><p>The only question was what such a similar chakra signature to his brother’s was doing there, in the middle of a small, backwater village deep inside Frost Country… Red eyes narrowed, lips curling down into a frown as he pondered the possible answers. <em>It meant nothing good, that was for sure.</em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Humming quietly to herself, Sakura set out the clothes on the line, nursing her cold fingertips with a scant amount of chakra. One of the perks of all her healing knowledge. Most of the other women there – the ones who didn’t scorn her for being a single mother – complained about the coldness of the water when they washed their clothes.</p><p>It was at times like those that Sakura sorely missed washing machines and all the other commodities of the future. Life had been easier then, despite all the whispers behind her back about Izuna and his war crimes which had only been pardoned thanks to Kakashi and Naruto.</p><p>Closing her eyes, Sakura pushed away those thoughts, smiling instead as she watched Sasuke play in the small fenced-off garden she’d made for that express purpose. He was sneaky, just like his father, and Sakura didn’t particularly want him venturing out into the forest where snow wolves lurked. He ran out there with his mischievous friends far too often for her poor heart. <em>And if sometimes she spied on him playing, then it was only to watch out for the dangers she knew lurked in the forest.</em></p><p>Silently, she wondered when she ought to begin training him. <em>Did she need to wait two more years? Or should she start him on basics straight away…? </em>Though she wouldn’t teach him how to walk on walls until he had some fighting skills down. <em>She didn’t need him sneaking out when she wasn’t looking and running into danger because of that.</em></p><p>There were worse things than snow wolves and bears out there.</p><p>Sighing, Sakura blinked at the sharp rap which sounded. <em>Sara had said she would be coming over later… </em>Sakura tilted her head, glancing over at her unlit fireplace. <em>Sara would just have to wait for tea it seemed, </em>she mused, hurrying over to the door, opening it with a smile—</p><p>Senju Tobirama stared at her, red eyes narrowed and hard like flinty ruby chips which bore into her very soul. Swallowing, Sakura stared right back, heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the man <em>who shouldn’t have been there. </em>“Can I help you?” she enquired, grateful her mask of calm hadn’t slipped in the slightest.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” he demanded, and Sakura felt herself bristle at the scathing, suspicious tone to his voice.</p><p><em>So maybe some of Izuna’s loathing of the man had transferred over to her… </em>but to be fair he was being terribly rude right then and there. She’d never met him before, not in that time at least – and as an Edo Tensei in the war hadn’t really counted. <em>What was she doing there? </em>Ha. She was living there—</p><p>Sakura froze, doing her best to reveal nothing aside from confusion on her face as she stared at him. <em>He’d sensed her chakra, </em>she realised, blood running cold. <em>How could she forget? </em>It was part of the reason she had moved out there, with her son being the other main reason. Though she might have been born a Haruno, she was descended from the Senju Clan through some sort of offshoot, and Edo Tensei Tobirama had once commented on her chakra’s similarities to his brother’s own. “I’m sorry,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she stared at him scathingly. “But have we—”</p><p>“Kaa-chan?” Sasuke called, and Sakura spun around, mentally cursing her luck as her son toddled into view. “What’s going—?”</p><p>“Traitor!” The word was growled out, red eyes narrowed, fingers curling around the grip of his sword, and Sakura almost swore as she slammed the door shut.</p><p>She ran for the back door, grabbing Sasuke as she went, channelling chakra to her legs and feet in a desperate attempt to get out of the house before Tobirama got in – not that it was particularly hard. Cursing, Sakura vaulted over the fence, heart pounding in her chest as she heard the tell-tale sounds of pursuit. “Dammit,” she muttered, hating the fact that Senju Tobirama had apparently labelled her as a clan traitor. <em>Though maybe some of the anger stemmed from the fact a woman with a chakra signature so similar to his brother’s had lain with his esteemed rival. </em></p><p>“Kaa-chan?” Sasuke whispered, terror lining his words as she set him down on his feet.</p><p>Tobirama was too fast and too dangerous for her to outrun with her son in her arms… which left her with one option. Beat him up so he couldn’t follow them, and <em>then </em>run away like her life depended on it. Because Tobirama had leapt to conclusions, whether in anger or lack of thinking things through. <em>For all he knew she could be the bastard daughter of some Senju who had no idea of her heritage… or she could be the child of a Senju traitor who had never interacted with her clan because of that. </em></p><p>“Go to the safe house, Sasuke,” she ordered, urging him into the forest where the safe house she had built waited. “I’ll catch up with you soon,” she said, swallowing as Tobirama came into view, blade drawn and gleaming in the morning light. “I just need to have a <em>conversation </em>with this man.”</p><p>“Kaa-chan…?”</p><p>“GO!” she yelled, fear and worry for her little boy bubbling up inside her. <em>It was just like Izuna had told her – Senju Tobirama was a bastard who apparently wouldn’t care if he left a child parentless. </em>Not that she would ever die under his blade.</p><p>Tobirama prowled towards her, and Sakura cursed her lack of weaponry to use against him. They were in a sealed scroll on a shelf, out of Sasuke’s meagre reach. <em>Yet another reason why she wouldn’t be teaching him how to walk up walls first. </em>“You’ve betrayed our clan…” he declared, and Sakura felt her eye twitch. “You slept with <em>him</em>,” he snarled, grip on the hilt of his sword knuckle white.</p><p>“Our clan?” Sakura enquired. “Sorry, but I’m fairly sure you aren’t a <em>Haruno</em>…”</p><p>“Don’t play dumb,” he spoke, sandals digging into the hard, frozen earth as he began his approach. “You’re a Senju. Chakra doesn’t lie.”</p><p>“Sorry, but my name is <em>Haruno </em>Sakura,” she called back. “Now either accept that and get lost or hurry up and die.” <em>Though she couldn’t kill him without changing history, so it would just have to be an epic beatdown instead.</em></p><p>She pulled her gloves from her pocket, leather creaking as she pulled them on and clenched her fists. <em>Oh she would pull that off no problem. </em></p><p>History wouldn’t be warped too much if she simply rearranged his face a bit. <em>After all, he’d killed her beloved husband once before, and Sakura could be petty as hell when she wanted to be.</em></p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Madara could only raise an eyebrow at the Senju woman. <em>What was her name again? </em>He tilted his head, mulling it over for a few minutes before the name came to mind. <em>Touka. That was it. </em>His brother had fought her a few times when Tobirama had been absent from the battlefield – and he only remembered that from the sheer amount of flirting from his brother’s end. Izuna had an unhealthy fixation with dangerous women <em>even ones from their once bitter rivals. </em>Sighing, Madara could only stare at the wooden cabin they’d found on their short exploration of the lands said to be home to their targets – the snow wolves.</p><p>
  <em>Not that Tobirama was bothering to help, what with him having vanished the second they had spoken to the village chief.</em>
</p><p>“Such a slacker,” Madara sniffed, glancing over at where he knew the village to lie. “But I suppose he’s a Senju… what can you expect,” he muttered, ignoring the raised eyebrow Touka sent his way.</p><p>“I didn’t think Hashirama had ever come up to Frost Country before,” Touka mumbled, palming the corner beam of the wooden cabin.</p><p>“What?” Madara demanded, frowning at her words. <em>What made her suddenly think Hashirama had been up there? </em>He stared at her flatly, silently calling for answers – answers which Touka soon gave.</p><p>“This cabin,” she said, eyes narrowed on the structure. “It feels awfully similar to the ones Hashirama has grown before…”</p><p>Madara rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. “So he’s come to Frost Country before… so what? That doesn’t change our mission… Though I guess we will have a place to rest outside the village.”</p><p>Touka opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps making their way towards them made them pause. They were quiet and fast – not the sound of Tobirama’s or any other adults. <em>A child’s footsteps. </em>Madara scowled. <em>What idiot would let a child out in a wolf-infested forest? </em>That was just plain irresponsible. <em>Unless the child had been sneaky and determined to break the rules… just like Izuna had been at that age. </em>Shaking the memory off, he glared at the source of the sound, blinking as a small head of inky black hair which spiked up at the back came out of the snowy undergrowth.</p><p>His breath stopped, heartbeat echoing in his ears as he stared at the small child who’d come running out of the frosted bushes only to skid to a stop at the sight of them.</p><p>Touka crouched down, evidently trying to seem less frightening given how badly the child’s legs were shaking at the sight of all three of them decked out in armour.</p><p>
  <em>The child with his brother’s face.</em>
</p><p>“Why are you out here?” Touka asked, evidently not aware of the silent meltdown he was having behind her. Hikaku clearly was, but thankfully he didn’t do anything stupid – like trying to pat his shoulder as Hashirama no doubt would have done. “It’s dangerous. You should—”</p><p>“Kaa-chan’s fighting a scary man,” the high-pitched voice <em>so much like Izuna’s at that age</em> told them. “She told me to come to the safe house…”</p><p>Touka glanced behind them at the cabin, brow furrowed as she mulled over the child’s words, but Madara could stay silent no longer. <em>He had to know. </em>He had to know whether his brother had left a piece of himself behind. <em>Whether he still had family. </em>Whether he had a little nephew to wrap in blankets and train until he could stand on his own two feet without fear of dying. “Boy,” his voice was colder than he would have liked as he spoke, but it didn’t matter. <em>Not so long as he got answers. </em>“Your father. What was his name?”</p><p>Hikaku stiffened, and Touka turned to him, the question written all over her face – but Madara didn’t grace her with an answer. He was still waiting for the boy’s own.</p><p>“Oh,” the boy with Izuna’s face mumbled, peering at him with more curiosity than fear that time. “Kaa-chan said his name was Izuna,” he said, smiling as though those words didn’t make Madara want to curl up into a ball and mourn his brother’s loss that much more. <em>His father was dead. How was he supposed to tell the boy that?</em> His nephew had never even had the chance to meet his father. “Uh. Is it alright if I go in?” the boy asked hesitantly, pointing towards the cabin, oblivious to his internal dilemma as he stared at them.</p><p>Scowling instead of doing something stupid like tearing up or smiling, he walked towards the boy, <em>his nephew, </em>grabbing him by the arm before he could escape his sight. <em>There was no way he was letting the last piece of his brother out of sight until they were safely back in Konoha. </em>“Izuna i-was my brother,” he said, pulling the boy behind him as he walked back towards a frowning Hikaku and a shocked Touka. <em>All they were missing was Tobirama’s surprised mug and then there’d be a complete set—</em></p><p>A white blur crashed through the treeline like an arrow in flight, sailing into the wooden cabin with a loud clatter and crunch as wooden walls crumpled beneath the force they’d been subjected to.</p><p>Touka’s head whipped around. “Tobirama?” she called, worry lining her voice as a grunt came from the partially destroyed cabin.</p><p>“Traitor!” Tobirama snarled from the wreckage, and Madara blinked at the hatred that bubbled from the white-haired bastards lips as he charged out of the wooden rubble, sword drawn and ready to strike at his opponent… wherever they were. <em>What exactly was going on? </em>Madara wanted to know – though the answer soon appeared in the form of a pink-haired woman with familiar red markings on her face and the wooden wall which sprung to life under her hands.</p><p>
  <em>Mokuton. </em>
</p><p>Not to mention <em>Sage Mode </em>as well.</p><p>“Kaa-chan!” Izuna’s child called, making Madara blink as he stared at the unfamiliar woman, just as the wood of the cabin sprung to life. It leapt up into jagged spies where her opponent had paused for a split second. Green eyes left Tobirama then to lock on the boy clinging to his pant legs. “I found oji-san!”</p><p>One green eye twitched, and Madara barely had time to savour the confused and alarmed look on the woman’s face before a familiar kunai sliced her cheek. Cursing silently, Madara stepped forwards, a bellow on his lips as he recognised the Hirashin kunai for what it was. <em>The same technique which had ended his brother’s life. </em></p><p>But instead of the white blur passing and slicing through her side, Madara was met with a far more amusing scene. He barely caught it with his sharingan, but he was glad he had. <em>He would love nothing more than memorising all the times he had seen Tobirama being beaten… </em>and by a slip of a pink-haired woman at that.</p><p>The scene was priceless.</p><p>“For the last time,” the woman hissed, fury and annoyance written all across her face as she glared at the Senju. “The name is <em>Haruno </em>Sakura,” she yelled, breathing heavily while she stood there, fist extended where she had punched the Senju before his blade could do little more than poke her side.</p><p>Blood dribbled down from her side, but only a slight trickle – nothing that would ever harm her, considering she had mokuton and the alarming regeneration rate which came with it. <em>Hashirama had been only too happy to spill secrets about his Kekkei Genkai. The idiot. </em></p><p>“I have no connection to the Senju Clan as far as I’m aware,” the pink-haired woman snarled, the red sage marking on her face making the bright green of her irises stand out that much more. “And going from your attitude, I don’t think I’d ever want to.”</p><p>Madara could barely stop the smirk that threatened to bloom across his face at the woman’s words. <em>What wonderful things she was saying… </em>He could see why his brother had wanted her – why he had pursued her while he was up here. She was undoubtedly connected to the Senju Clan, bearing the mokuton bloodline only his rival-friend had, and she was horrifyingly powerful not just because of that. Izuna had loved danger. The woman, <em>Sakura, </em>personified that.</p><p>Though, watching her punt Tobirama about only made Madara like her that much more. <em>How on earth could he hate her when she was providing such excellent entertainment for him?</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Return</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay... Thanks to a certain recent comment on this chapter, I’m putting in a trigger warning which I guess is a bit of a spoiler:</p><p>If Madara ‘kidnapping’ or forcibly taking Sakura back to Konoha will set you off, then this is a warning here since I don't want anyone else to 'throw up everything they've ever eaten'.</p><p>I put this in and I tried to do it with care so as to not let this work come off as ‘misogynistic bullshit’ but as always there’s at least one person out there who hasn’t realised why I went down the kidnapping route. Madara isn’t in his right mind - he’s unstable after his brother’s death which is why he forcibly drags both Sakura and her son to what he considers to be his home. This is the main reason behind the decision to kidnap Sakura, and it's not a healthy one. The others don’t protest this move because they’re getting a bloodline wielder back to their respective clan before anyone else comes and tried to steal her for less pleasant means than their own. Additionally, Sakura, in this work, is terribly stubborn about going to Konoha too, despite the fact that, deep down, she knows she belongs in Konoha and actually wants to go back - hence why she doesn't make a huge fuss about being back in Konoha. It wasn't a random decision - the kidnapping that is - nor one to highlight Madara's so-called strength, nor one which is meant to display their future relationship. Still, I can't help but wonder if I'd genderbent this work too, whether there would have been comments in the same vein.</p><p>Let me reiterate that this work is not endorsing kidnapping as a means to a relationship. If I’d made Madara fall in love and kidnap her then that would be playing into that terrible stereotype, but Madara isn’t in love. The kidnapping has nothing to do with ‘true love’ nor do they immediately fall in love afterwards. It’s simply to get a stubborn someone from Point A to Point B while displaying the current mindsets of the characters, particularly how seemingly unhealthy Madara's new fixation on his last piece of family is.</p><p>Kudos to anyone who actually understood my motives for putting this scene in, and thank you for not calling my work 'misogynistic bullshit' when this was an admittedly difficult scene to write. I do not intend to disillusion anyone with the idea that kidnapping is a gateway to a good relationship - it's not, and the only reason no one makes a particularly big fuss over Sakura being forcibly taken is because I view the Elemental Nations as having a whole different set of morals and rules on what's considered socially acceptable, particularly the shinobi.</p><p>As for why I'm writing so much in this Author's Note - I'm terribly petty, and the comment on this chapter really irked me. Not least because it implied all of my audience for this work are twelve-year-olds who are disillusioned with the idea of what romance really is, and that I'm digging into the stereotype of kidnapping being a declaration of true love. 'tis not.</p><p>How's that for perpetuating stereotypes, dear guest?</p><p>Oh, and if anybody disagrees with me on anything, then please keep the tone of your comment polite when you state your point. I don't particularly like it when people 'vent' all their aggression about a particular facet of my work. I'm not here as an author to be anyone's emotional punching bag, and I will respond to comments (especially ones like the one which led me to write this warning for y'all) which question my moral integrity and imply that what I write showcases my own opinions or prejudices.</p><p>If you're still willing to continue reading, then thanks for reading my little tirade, and I hope you enjoy the rest of what's to come - and also the fact that kidnapping someone is very much a no-no, and it would not be a very romantic thing. It would be a terrifying experience, and the only reason Sakura is not terrified is that she knows she will likely come to no harm thanks to her bloodline and her apparent previous relationships.</p><p>Happy Reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was a traitor. The worst kind – who’d defected and <em>slept </em>with the enemy while they’d still been bitterly entrenched in war, judging by her son’s age. Added to the fact it was <em>Izuna </em>she had slept with was just the icing on the cake. <em>He’d recognised the flavour of the boy’s chakra the minute he’d laid eyes on him.</em></p><p>He could feel the lie in her chakra when she’d said she had no connection to the Senju Clan, and his assumptions and instincts to cut down the traitor were instantly justified in his mind. His brother would no doubt want to spare her, welcome her back into the clan, blinded by the prospect of another mokuton user, but Tobirama wasn’t as disillusioned as his brother was. Someone who had betrayed the clan once before would only do it again.</p><p>
  <em>A leopard couldn’t change its spots.</em>
</p><p>Just like Madara couldn’t. <em>Just like Izuna hadn’t been able to. </em>They were the kinds of people he had to be the most wary about. Tobirama scowled, throwing another marked kunai forwards, intent on purging the clan of a traitorous mokuton user. <em>Someone who might’ve been his brother’s equal in time. Someone who would have simply betrayed him and his dream. </em></p><p>“Tobirama!” Touka’s voice pierced through the haze clouding his mind, and he inclined his head towards his clanswoman all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the traitor. “Enough! Stop this right now,” she ordered, a harsh edge to her voice.</p><p>“Touka she’s—”</p><p>Brown eyes bore into his side, harsh and cutting unlike the soft glances of days gone by. “Stop, and look at yourself, Tobirama,” she said, gritting her teeth as he looked around at the scene in front of him. <em>He didn’t understand the problem. </em>He was just protecting his clan, his brother, and their dream. “How blind can you be, cousin?” Touka whispered, shaking her head. “The Senju and Uchiha are allied now.”</p><p>“Her son is at least five years old,” he replied, red eyes lingering on the pink-haired woman who was staring at him suspiciously from the other side of the small clearing in which the wooden cabin lay. “We weren’t allied with the Uchiha five years ago…”</p><p>“Tobirama… would you really kill a mother in front of her child?” she asked, voice sounding small all of a sudden, and Tobirama felt his shoulders sink as he spied the little boy clinging to Madara’s leg.</p><p>Sighing quietly, he sheathed his sword. “No,” he answered finally, sending one final scathing glare at his clan’s traitor before he walked back to Touka’s side, ignoring how Izuna’s child trembled at his closeness.</p><p>“As if he could,” the traitor muttered, no doubt underestimating his own abilities. <em>He would be happy to prove her wrong one day… when she betrayed the clan again, there would be no more mercy for her. </em></p><p>“You’re aware of your connections to the Senju Clan. Do not lie,” he spoke, once again addressing the traitor. “I can sense it in your chakra when you do.”</p><p>The traitor only rolled her eyes with a deep sigh. “Fine. You got me. I have the mokuton and a few brain cells – I can put two and two together. It’s obvious I have some sort of relation to the Senju Clan. But during my time here, I haven’t met any Senju. I am a Haruno. That was my family’s name, so stop trying to call me a traitor of a clan I have never belonged to,” she said, and Tobirama felt shame roil through his very bones. <em>Because every word of that had been the truth. </em>“How was that for the truth, arsehole,” she muttered, spitting at the ground in front of him, and Tobirama looked away, embarrassed.</p><p><em>What a stupid blunder he’d made… </em>Tobirama chewed on his lip, before deciding it was best to get it over and done with. <em>He just needed to let go of his pride and bow </em>– so that was what he did. “I apologise, Haruno-san,” he said, straightening back up as he waited for her response, only for his eyes to fall on Uchiha Madara instead.</p><p>His jaw tightened, irritation coursing through his blood at the sight of the smug smirk on the face of the Uchiha he despised the most.</p><p>“You really think an apology can make up for what you just did?” Haruno asked, tilting her head, verdant eyes boring into his own with such a chilling intensity. “You came to my door, accused me of being a traitor, chased me and my son into a wolf-infested forest while trying to kill me and leave my child motherless and in danger.”</p><p>Madara’s smirk only widened, and Tobirama scowled, beyond annoyed at the smug look on the Uchiha’s face as the woman interacted with her son. <em>His nephew, </em>Tobirama realised finally, the reality of the situation sinking in like a dagger to the chest. It was no wonder the filthy chakra was roiling in anger, carrying an intent to harm – and Tobirama didn’t need to guess the intended recipient.</p><p>“Do try to make it up to me, Senju,” Haruno said, a cold smile on her lips, and unlike Madara’s still widening smirk, Tobirama supposed it was what he deserved. He had been blinded by the thought of a mokuton wielding traitor. <em>One who could kill his brother and ruin the Senju Clan and everything they’d built. </em>Because his brother was the only one who could keep Madara in check so completely.</p><p>“Haruno Sakura, correct?” Madara spoke up then, and Tobirama could only frown as the Uchiha turned his back on him. <em>Such a bold move. </em>Tobirama closed his eyes. They weren’t meant to be enemies anymore. <em>If only Madara would hurry up and realise that fact too. </em></p><p>“Yes?” Green eyes narrowed, only to widen moments later as the hilt cap of Madara’s wakizashi came slamming into the side of her head.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>He had seen her, looking between him, her son, and the forest beyond. Madara was no fool. He knew what she was weighing up in that mind of hers, and he wasn’t about to let her make her way off with the last piece of blood family he had remaining.</p><p>“Oji-san…?” Izuna’s son turned to him, letting go of his trousers finally as his mother crumpled to the ground in front of him, unconscious. “Why did you…?”</p><p>“Your kaa-san was about to do something foolish”—by trying to steal away his nephew—“so I stopped her,” he said, fiddling through his supplies, pulling out the sealing scroll, unsealing its contents. His hands soon found what he was looking for – the chakra suppressors and the rope Hashirama had insisted he take with him in order to capture enemies alive. <em>Personally Madara had thought it a foolish. </em>The best kinds of enemies were dead ones. Though he would admit he was right to take it.</p><p>Even if the woman was no enemy, she was a flight risk. And Madara wasn’t going to lose the last chance for a family he had found. <em>He was so glad he had taken that mission. He was even glad the white demon of the Senju had come along. </em>Without him scaring or sensing her, Madara would never have found them.</p><p><em>Still, it didn’t mean he could forget the bastard was the one to strike Izuna down… </em>but it helped a bit. Not that Madara ever thought he could grow to like the white-haired bastard. Their personalities would always clash in the worst of ways. The fact he couldn’t yet forgive him for Izuna’s death was just another problem on top of that.</p><p>Humming quietly under his breath, Madara rolled the pink-haired woman – <em>Sakura </em>– over, readying the rope before he began tying her hands behind her. It was a complex bind, considering her strength and the fact she had proven herself to be a formidable adversary. <em>The fact she had mokuton was only a cherry on top. </em>So carefully binding her legs and arms it was, as well as applying no less than three chakra supressing seals at the main three chakra junctions – neck, midback, and the tailbone.</p><p>She wouldn’t be getting out of that anytime soon, and Madara would happily take the mother of his brother’s son back to Konoha – where she no doubt belonged, given she had mokuton. Really, she was incredibly lucky no other clans had heard of her or her child. Bloodline thieves would have loved to get their hands on the both of them.</p><p>In Konoha she wouldn’t have to worry about that. She would be welcomed gladly there, Madara knew, though undoubtedly Sakura didn’t know that herself given how she had tried to run. <em>Tried to run away from an option of a safe harbour for her and her son. </em>Rolling her over, he frowned, staring at the smidgeon of blood rolling down from her temple.</p><p>He hadn’t held back. She had the mokuton, and its healing factor, which meant it would be safe to administer the hardest blow. The kind that would knock out Hashirama for a good few hours.</p><p>“She’ll be fine, boy,” he said, grabbing a hold of the collar of the boy’s shirt before he could scamper off in fright. Frowning, Madara wondered what she had taught his nephew – for him to be as frightened as he was. <em>Probably nothing, if his guess was correct. </em>Madara sighed. <em>No doubt she had been shielding him… making him grow up the way Madara hoped more children would be able to inside Konoha.</em></p><p>“Are you really my oji-san?” the boy asked, hands trembling as he asked the question.</p><p>“Yes,” Madara said. “You are my brother’s child. There is no doubt about it – you’re the spitting image of what he was at that age… now stop worrying about your kaa-san. She’ll wake up in a few hours with a splitting headache, but that will be it. Though while she’s unconscious we should complete our mission,” he continued, looking over at the one Senju he could stand and Hikaku. “The sooner we get back to Konoha the better.”</p><p>Tobirama chose that moment to speak up. “For once we’re in agreement, Uchiha.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Groggy, Sakura took a few moments to remember how she had wound up in the situation that she had. She had bumped into Madara – the worst person she could have met there, aside from Tobirama – and then… Groaning, she tried to reach for her head and the splitting ache there, but her hands wouldn’t move. “What?” she mumbled, staring at the faceful of dark cloth she was met with before she pulled herself up, stomach muscles straining as she did so. Not that it helped.</p><p>All she managed to do was get a glimpse of long black hair and the Uchiwa fan emblazoned on the back of the mantle he wore. The jostling, and the shoulder her hips rested on left her no doubt she was being carried. The familiar purplish blue mantle and the clan insignia, coupled with that wild inky black hair left her no doubt it was <em>Uchiha Madara </em>who was carrying her.</p><p>
  <em>And she was being carried like a sack of potatoes, slung over one shoulder. </em>
</p><p>Snarling, she kicked with her legs, wincing when she realised her shoes had undoubtedly been removed and Madara was wearing that obnoxious red armour of his. It hurt. Not to mention she couldn’t feel her chakra.</p><p>A hum of amusement rang through his chest, and Sakura tried and failed to headbutt his back – not that it really worked with how fast they were seemingly moving. “Let me down!” she grumbled, not expecting her request to be heeded.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t, and Sakura only sighed as she resigned herself to the fact she was undoubtedly being carried back to Konoha. The place she had never thought she’d go in that time period, mainly because she didn’t want to encounter Uchiha Madara. But fate was a bitch, and it had brought her to a collision with the man himself. Not that she would ever let herself be knocked out so easily again. It was humiliating to think of. All it had taken was a split second, and then she had been taken down. <em>Though admittedly it was her fault for letting her guard down so close to the man. </em>He was dangerous. She had just forgotten that fact when she went to collect her son.</p><p>
  <em>How idiotic of her… </em>
</p><p>“We’ll stop here for the night,” Tobirama’s voice made her scowl.</p><p><em>If that idiot hadn’t uncovered her… if he hadn’t driven her there into the forest, then maybe she would still be living peacefully back in the village. </em>Sakura could almost picture it, eating dinner with Sara, Sasuke smiling happily as he entertained himself. But that wasn’t going to happen ever again. They were being taken to Konoha.</p><p>Swallowing, Sakura jerked her head around, eyes frantically searching for a visual of her son. “Sasuke!” she called, ignoring Madara even as he set her down on her side. Obsidian eyes watched her like one might watch a wild dog.</p><p>“Kaa-chan!”</p><p>Her head swivelled around, relief seeping through her as her son trudged over to where she lay – only to be pulled to sit at Madara’s side, close by her head.</p><p>“So your name is Sasuke,” Madara remarked, gazing down at his nephew, and Sakura felt her eye twitch as she realised he apparently hadn’t asked for her son’s name despite the however many hours she had been asleep for.</p><p>Sasuke only smiled, and Sakura felt herself scowl – something akin to jealousy coursing through her in that instant. <em>How dare he grow so close to her son. </em>He had clearly been taking advantage of her unconsciousness.</p><p>“Kaa-chan said that’s the name tou-san used when she first met him,” Sasuke spoke, happiness enthusing his tone as he stared up at his uncle. “So it’s what she used to name me…”</p><p>“That brat…” Madara mumbled, an odd fondness to his voice. “Making fun of Sarutobi Sasuke no doubt… sounds like my brother alright.”</p><p>“Is Izuna…?” Sakura trailed off, not wanting to hear the confirmation. Everything about she and Sasuke would be ruined if Izuna was still alive… so it would be for the best if he was dead. <em>No matter how much the thought made her want to cry.</em></p><p>Madara closed his eyes.</p><p>“I see,” she said, not knowing why she had been expecting anything else. <em>Because Konoha had been formed, and Izuna had never seen Konoha. Not before he was reborn as Uchiha Sasuke. </em>The same name which her son now bore. She only prayed that her son wouldn’t meet the same end as his father. <em>As the man she had loved so dearly. </em>“How long have I been unconscious for?” she asked, meeting those obsidian black eyes – the same ones identical to those of her son’s.</p><p>“Almost an entire day,” Madara said, a smirk forming on his lips. “I do hit rather hard, it seems.”</p><p>Sakura rolled her eyes at the smugness he radiated, closing her eyes as she decided she ought to get some much needed sleep. Thankfully, she had never needed to worry about concussions what with the mokuton’s healing factor, despite it having been slowed down somewhat due to her bound chakra. She wouldn’t be escaping anytime soon, she knew. Not with chakra suppressors on. <em>They needed an application of chakra to remove. </em>Her son couldn’t use it just yet, and somehow she doubted Madara or the other three travelling with him would oblige her in removing them just yet. So sleep it was – if only to wait for the opportunity to do something…</p><p> </p><p>Konoha looked absolutely nothing like she remembered. The tall wall which should have encompassed the village borders was non-existent, just like the post at the gate manned by chunin in her old time, and there were a lot more trees and leaves hiding the entire village than she thought there ought to have been. Truly, she could see how it had gotten its name. <em>And let it not be forgotten that the man toting her like a sack of potatoes was the one to name it. </em>Sakura sighed, flopping back down against Madara’s back, wincing at the strain the long staring session had caused for her core muscles. Her arms felt impossibly stiff, as did her legs – the fault of having been tied up for however many days it had actually taken for them to return to the place she had once called home some hundred odd years in the future.</p><p>Madara’s pace slowed down, his shoulder no longer digging in as he relaxed his grip on her minutely, calling out a greeting as someone he apparently knew walked by. <em>Whilst she dangled over his shoulder like some sort of decorative ornament. </em>Sakura barely withheld a growl at the thought of that.</p><p>Silently, she wondered who she should punt across the village first when the chakra suppressor were removed. Either Madara or Tobirama, given how the other two hadn’t annoyed her in any way, shape, or form. They had just been stuck with the pair of idiots for that particular mission. She hadn’t even had the chance to ask for their names, which in hindsight she might as well have asked for.</p><p>She was probably going to be forced to live there for the foreseeable future and being able to put names to faces would have been nice. <em>Even if it was only a few. </em>But it was too late for that, and Sakura was resigned to her fate. <em>Whatever it was going to be… </em></p><p>Swallowing, she straightened her back, tensing up as she realised she had been carried indoors. Though surprisingly enough people were still using doors rather than the preferred option of windows that had become standard in her old time. Glaring at the flooring, she tried to work out where exactly she was, stiffening when she realised there was only one place she could be. <em>On her way to the Hokage’s Office, in the administration building. </em></p><p>And it was the time of the First Hokage.</p><p>Meaning she was about to come face to face with a man regarded as the God of Shinobi in that time. Whose legacy would leave a lasting impression on the world for years to come. He was also the only other mokuton user in history, well, aside from Yamato – but his hadn’t been natural unlike hers and Hashirama’s.</p><p>“Hashirama!” Madara bellowed, kicking the door open with his foot, ignoring the derisive scoff from Tobirama as he walked into the room.</p><p>“Anija, we have returned,” Tobirama said, cutting Madara off before he could get another word out. Sakura only sighed as she waited – still stuck over Madara’s shoulder. She had been intimately acquainted with it for far too long in her own opinion and was unduly accustomed to the slight tremor of anger that ran through him at the younger Senju’s blatant dismissal.</p><p>“The mission was a success, I take it… if that pelt is any indication,” Hashirama said, voice sounding alarmingly cheerful to Sakura’s ears as she waited for something to happen. <em>Like for the esteemed shinobi to notice the woman draped over his so-called best friend’s shoulder.</em></p><p>“It was,” Tobirama answered succinctly. “Though there was an… unexpected complication.”</p><p>“I take it that woman over Madara’s shoulder has something to do with it?” Hashirama queried, and Sakura almost sighed in relief when she was seated in a small wooden chair inside the Hokage’s Office. The world spun momentarily, and she slumped in the chair ever so slightly as she found herself the right way up for the first time in hours.</p><p>Though the curious dark eyed stare from Hashirama soon made that relief vanish into thin air as she prepared herself for a questioning and a half. <em>Something she had never wanted to happen to her or her son who was clutching at the other Uchiha’s pant leg as a tense silence reigned in the office.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Senju</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing Sakura did was find where her son was – standing a little ways behind the three of them, clinging to the brunette Uchiha’s trousers like his life depended on it. <em>There was no way she wouldn’t be punting anyone out of the Hokage’s office, or at least across a training ground once she hopefully gained access to them, she decided right then and there. </em>Her shoulders sunk in relief. Other than being utterly terrified and confused, he seemed unharmed. Not that she thought Madara would have dared to harm his nephew.</p><p>It was no wonder he was practically silent and frozen on the spot. He was silent in his fear, unlike how loud he became when he was angry and anyone dared to push him too far. He probably knew exactly how dangerous the men in front of him were. <em>He also probably knew she would be liable to kick them around like ragdolls as soon as she regained access to her chakra. </em>Little Sasuke had seen her accidently destroy buildings before in her rage. <em>And then sneak back to repair them with mokuton before anyone noticed the collapsed structure.</em></p><p>“She’s a Senju,” Tobirama’s voice sliced through the silence like a knife.</p><p>Sakura only rolled her eyes – so beyond done with everything Senju. Not to mention she really wanted to punch Tobirama too. <em>But then again, she also wanted to do the same to Madara. </em>That wasn’t the time for that though. She was in the Hokage’s Office, and nothing would end well if she proved herself to be hostile. So she would have to shelve the violence until she found the time to invite the two men to a sparring match. <em>Then she could beat them to a bloody pulp as payback for what they had done. </em>“Actually the name is <em>Haruno </em>Sakura, thank you very much,” she drawled, feeling oddly like Shikamaru as she injected as much boredom into her voice as possible. She didn’t particularly want them to notice how utterly nervous she felt. Though she was fairly certain Senju Hashirama wouldn’t kill her, that didn’t particularly mean she enjoyed being at the mercy of three men that much more powerful than her. <em>Well, they were acclaimed to be. </em>It wasn’t like she’d ever had the chance to square off against them and compare their strengths.</p><p>All she knew was that they were glorified back in her old time. They were giants. <em>Legends of the shinobi world. </em>Mainly because they had constantly been in battle, constantly forced to improve themselves or die and become another minor footnote in history.</p><p>“So why is she tied up?” Hashirama tilted his head, dark eyes staring at her bound form curiously. “If she’s clan, then she shouldn’t—”</p><p>“She’s either the daughter of a traitor, or a bastard child from a minor slip up from our parents’ generation,” Tobirama answered succinctly, folding his arms across his chest, the snowy white pelt of one of the snow wolves tucked under one arm.</p><p>“Neither of which are reasons for her to be bound,” Hashirama said, moving towards her then, and Sakura blinked as he went and fiddled with the ropes, releasing her hands. “You sealed her chakra too?”</p><p>“She has the mokuton, and she tried to run away,” Tobirama said, an oddly petulant tone in contrast to his brother’s scolding one.</p><p>“Tried to run away when you tried to kill me and my son more like,” Sakura oh so helpfully added, rubbing at her wrists, sighing in relief when she felt her chakra returned to her as Hashirama pulled the suppressor tag loose with the slightest application of chakra. The ropes around her ankles soon fell to her floor, but Sakura refrained from lashing out at anyone like she might have done when she was younger. <em>Back when she’d had the power of the Hokage at her back. </em>She didn’t have any power other than her own there.</p><p>“Tobi!” Hashirama’s head swivelled, dark eyes clashing with red ones.</p><p>Tobirama shifted on his feet, crimson eyes sliding over onto the slightly quivering form of her son, and Sakura bristled, fighting the urge to go and shield him from that cold gaze. <em>Sasuke could bear it. </em>He would have to, or at least learn how to, given they were undoubtedly going to be staying there for a while yet. She doubted Madara would let them go anytime soon. <em>They were the last bit of family he probably had, given Izuna’s untimely demise.</em></p><p>How Sakura wished she could have prevented it… but her focus had been on keeping Sasuke safe. <em>Not embroiling him in a war and surrendering him to the cycle of hatred which Naruto had tried so valiantly to stop. </em></p><p>Hashirama followed his brother’s gaze, frowning as he spotted her son. “And who’s this?” he enquired, a jovial grin on his face as he seemingly tried to make himself appear that much sunnier. That much less threatening.</p><p>“Her son,” Tobirama said, teeth grinding together as his brother paused for a few moments, taking the time to digest the information he had just been presented with. “Uchiha Izuna’s son…”</p><p>There was a sharp intake of breath, dark eyes darting between her green ones, the little onyx ones of her son, and Tobirama’s striking red ones. “So you tried to harm that which is a symbol of our alliance with the Uchiha?” Hashirama frowned.</p><p>Tobirama scowled. “We weren’t allied with the Uchiha five years ago, anija,” he said. “Besides, I wasn’t attempting to harm the child. Only the woman I perceived and concluded to be a traitor to our clan…”</p><p>“It’s not like you to jump to conclusions,” Hashirama mumbled, looking contemplative as he stared down at the ground for a few seconds, deep in thought like he was playing a game of shogi.</p><p>“She slept with Uchiha Izuna… what else was I to assume?”</p><p><em>Anything else. </em>Sakura rolled her eyes, stiffening as she heard the bitter scoff from the dark-haired Uchiha by her side. <em>Seems he had a similar disliking for the white-haired Uchiha… but that was only to be expected. </em>Tobirama had been the one to strike Izuna down. To carve the blade into his side, promising a slow agonising death given what had been the state of the Uchiha healthcare then.</p><p>Silently, Sakura swore she would improve that standard. She was a medic first and foremost, and she was seemingly going to be staying in Konoha for a while longer. <em>Who was she kidding? </em>She was home, though not quite. <em>Given she was in the wrong time. </em>Though given recent events there was no point in her running away from the place. Madara had found them, and her relation to the Senju had been revealed.</p><p>There was nothing else that major she really had to hide.</p><p>“Well then…” Hashirama trailed off, beaming grin slotting back into place on his face as he turned back to her. “The Senju Clan would be happy to welcome the pair of you—”</p><p>“They’ll be staying with me,” Madara spoke, cutting the man off before he could finish, uncaring as Hashirama pouted at him. <em>The so-called God of Shinobi was pouting. </em>Sakura sighed, relaxing slightly at the thought of staying with Madara. <em>It was better than staying anywhere near Tobirama. </em>She couldn’t trust him around her son.</p><p>“But she’s a Senju – and her son is too, even if he’s only half,” Hashirama said, chewing on his lip as he tried another approach. “Added to the fact—”</p><p>“My <em>name,” </em>Sakura broke in, “is Haruno Sakura… and I would be more than happy to accept Uchiha-sama’s offer, given how I do not wish to be anywhere near the person who has attempted to kill me <em>in front of my son, </em>I might add.”</p><p>Madara smirked, keeping her in the corner of his vision as she went over to pick her son. She could feel his eyes on her, boring into her back like kunai. “That settles it then,” he said, speaking before his so-called best friend could even get a word in edgewise. “By Haruno-san’s own choice, she and <em>my</em> nephew will be staying with me.”</p><p>Comprehension dawned on Hashirama’s face, and he nodded then. “Very well,” he acquiesced. “I need to go and check the clan archives to confirm some facts, but we should meet up over dinner. There’s more we need to discuss in regards to our new… clan member?” Those dark eyes locked on her green ones, a hesitant smile on his face. <em>He looked far too much like Naruto when he did that. </em>Sakura closed her eyes, concealing the eye roll which accompanied it.</p><p>Staying in a newly founded Konohagakure was going to be fun.</p><p>So <em>very </em>fun.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>His steps felt lighter as he returned to the compound, as did his heart, and so Madara found himself looking forwards to getting back to that <em>empty, lonely </em>house… which wasn’t going to be so empty or lonely with the newest two residents he was bringing back. Hashirama hadn’t kept them too long after they had discussed <em>Sakura’s </em>fate. There wasn’t any need to discuss her son’s. His nephew would have been welcomed, and he would have stayed with the Uchiha Clan, even if he had to fight Hashirama tooth and nail for it.</p><p>The boy was the last bit of family he had, and Madara found his gaze softening ever so slightly as he looked at his nephew. He was a sight, bundled up in his mother’s arms, hands interlaced at the back of her slender neck. The only thing missing was the symbol of his clan. <em>Of his birth right. </em>Madara sighed softly, knowing he would have to visit the clan tailor as soon as he could.</p><p><em>Hashirama would probably try to get him to wear the Senju crest as well, not that Madara would be having any of that. </em>The woman could wear it for all he liked, but her son was Uchiha. He took after Izuna more than anything, and Izuna’s miniature doppelganger couldn’t wear a Senju crest. It wouldn’t look right.</p><p>Not when the Senju had slayed his father.</p><p>Shaking his head, he walked through the compound still only part way through being finished. <em>The outer walls still had yet to be plastered and adorned with their signature Uchiwa. </em>The housing was complete for the most part, given they had been one of the first clans to move in to Konoha. The list of different clans joining them was only growing.</p><p>Dimly, he remembered hearing rumours of other villages surfacing in other countries. A frown pulled at his lips. <em>He needed to inform Hashirama of that – if his own brother hadn’t already, though he doubted it. </em>If he had heard, he would have been doing more, Madara knew. <em>Because new villages in different countries meant new threats. Threats larger than what a single clan had been before. </em>The village was stronger than a single clan, after all, and any copies of their dream would be just as powerful. <em>Or they could grow to be just as powerful, if they weren’t already</em>. Konoha had the <em>Senju </em>and the <em>Uchiha, </em>the two strongest clans in Fire Country, and he knew that combination would be rather hard to beat.</p><p>There was a reason Frost Country had requested them, despite the distance needed to travel. “My house is further inside,” he informed his two tagalongs, ignoring the looks he earnt from passing clanmates. <em>There were plenty old enough to remember exactly what his brother looked like. </em>So it was hardly a wonder onyx black eyes were staring between him and the small child squirming in his mother’s capable arms.</p><p><em>She had been lighter than he had expected,</em> he mused, rubbing at the shoulder where she had rested when he had been carting her back to their village. <em>Her new home. </em>It would have to be, if she wanted to stay with his nephew.</p><p>Silently, he was glad he had kept the spare futon. <em>Glad he hadn’t taken it out into the expansive garden grown courtesy of Hashirama and burnt it, as he had been sorely tempted to before. </em>Otherwise it would have been that much harder, <em>and Hashirama probably would’ve then conned them into staying for a night at the Senju’s part of the village. </em></p><p>The familiar house came into view, built almost identically to the other Uchiha housing, only his was a bit larger. <em>With too many empty rooms he hadn’t known what to do with. </em>It was to be the house of the clan head – the title which he bore. <em>The same title Izuna had helped him bear. </em>Izuna’s child would bear that title in the future no doubt.</p><p>And what a headache that would be – convincing the elders to let Izuna’s bastard half-Senju child lead the clan. But he would do it. Simply because he was the only possible heir left of his lineage. It wasn’t like he was about to have any children.</p><p>“We’re here,” he announced brusquely, sliding open the door, eager to sequester him and his new additions to the family away from the questioning eyes of his kinsmen. <em>He wanted to have a bit of rest and relaxation before the elders came knocking at the door, demanding answers. </em>Nothing in his life was ever simple, least of all the politics of the clan he led. “Home.”</p><p>“What room will we be staying in?” Sakura asked, pulling the door shut behind her with one hand, and Madara led them up the stairs, tapping on the two doors closest to his own room.</p><p>“These will do,” he said, hoping his nephew would be in the room closest to his. <em>Just in case she tried to steal him away and sneak off again. </em>“Though I currently only have one adult-sized spare futon, so I will have to procure another as soon as I am able,” he informed them. <em>Likely after he had dealt with the nattering old windbags who called themselves elders. </em></p><p>“That’s fine,” she answered, glancing down at her son. “We can share for tonight…”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>His brother was staring at him, disapproval lining every inch of his face as they ate dinner together for the first time in a long while. Hokage duties, as well as ambassadorial ones, had kept his older brother busy. It wasn’t rare to find Hashirama in the tower long into the evenings, when the sun was low on the horizon.</p><p>“What is it?” he asked, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. <em>He had done what he thought necessary at the time to protect his brother. </em>Sure it had backfired spectacularly, but the good intentions had been there. Not that his brother could see that.</p><p>“I was looking through the archives with Touka, you know,” Hashirama said, a small, oddly sad smile pulled at his lips. “Y’know… about any missions which went on in Frost Country twenty odd years ago… and what’s odd is that there’s only ever been one request before.”</p><p>“There are other clans closer to that country than ours,” Tobirama answered. “It’s not particularly surprising there haven’t been many request—what is it?”</p><p>Hashirama swallowed a mouthful of rice. “Do you know who was selected to go on that mission?” he asked, and Tobirama swallowed at the tension which seemed to emanate from his brother.</p><p>“I haven’t visited the archives, so no,” he said, picking at the grilled fish of his own dinner.</p><p>“Our Uncle, Senju Daiki, one Senju Hitoshi… and our father… Senju Butsuma,” Hashirama said, placing his chopsticks down, dark eyes boring into his blood red ones. “Those were the names listed… and Sakura-san… she has the mokuton… and you said her chakra felt similar to my own…”</p><p>Tobirama closed his eyes, feeling like a rock had just lodged itself in the bottom of his stomach. “You think our father had an affair in Frost Country.”</p><p>“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Hashirama said, shrugging as though the mention of their dead brother didn’t bother him. “You remember—”</p><p>“I remember Kawarama, anija,” Tobirama muttered through gritted teeth. <em>He really didn’t want to talk about dead family members. Not when they were supposed to be celebrating the foundations of Hashirama’s dream come to life.</em></p><p>“We should tell her soon,” his brother continued, heedless of the dread and terror roiling through him as he sat there, facing the reality that he might have just tried to cut down his half-sister. <em>She probably had no idea of her relation to the Senju Clan when he had knocked on her door. </em>But it begged the question of whether Izuna had been aware of her heritage.</p><p>
  <em>Had he taken advantage of her?</em>
</p><p>Tried to spite the Senju Clan through a young woman who had no idea about her heritage…? The thought made his stomach roll. <em>And he had fucked up even worse than that. He had fucked up majorly, and he wasn’t exactly certain of how to make it up to his probable relation. </em>He would have to make it up to her too, given how his brother would otherwise be on his case – and he didn’t particularly want Hashirama hounding him day and night to fix his relationship with their newly discovered apparent sister.</p><p>The same sister who had gone off to the Uchiha Compound to stay with <em>Madara </em>of all people. Though he supposed the Uchiha was the only other option for him. It only proved how badly he had messed things up with her in his fixation to keep the last of his immediate family safe.</p><p>How ironic that the one he’d tried to eliminate was turning out to be immediate family too…</p><p>Hashirama had always wanted a sister, he remembered dimly. <em>It seemed all his dreams were coming true as of late. </em></p><p>He wondered what would have happened if he’d had any dreams for the future. <em>Would they have been granted too?</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Uchiha</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tobirama was infinitely glad that the Ino-Shika-Cho alliance had decided to move to Konoha so soon after its founding. The village was in its infancy, his brother’s dream still so very fragile in its momentum, but they had gladly opened their doors to welcome the Nara, the Yamanaka, and the Akimichi clans into their village. Obviously, despite how he hated to admit it, both he and Madara had been concerned about the new arrivals, but Tobirama quickly saw that his worries were for naught. The Nara were renowned geniuses, and they had thrown their lot in with Konohagakure, bringing their knowledge of strategy, planning, as well as medicine along with them. It was truly a boon. The Akimichi had a tight hold on the spice market, along with bringing their culinary delights with them, meaning that their village now had a good way of attracting civilians needed to support the shinobi village Hashirama had dreamt up, as well as being another incentive for other clans to join.</p><p>However, it was at that moment that he was most grateful that the Yamanaka had joined, bringing their flower shop with them. Swallowing, Tobirama stared at the purple hyacinths he had bought, feeling like he was carrying a heavy boulder rather than a bundle of flowers. <em>A start to saying ‘I’m sorry, please forgive me’ for someone as socially inept as him. </em>He was all too aware of his ineptitude when it came to treading in niceties and the act of socialising with people outside of barking orders at them on missions.</p><p>“Let’s get this over and done with,” he muttered, taking a deep breath as he made his way towards the part of Konoha he was most liable to get stabbed and murdered in. <em>Such cheery thoughts. </em>Though admittedly not by the adults – they knew better more often than not to attack him – it was the children, especially the teenagers, which he had to watch out for. <em>Because more often than not he was the cause of many bereavements. </em></p><p>They had been at war though, and it was kill or be killed. Now though… His sandals stirred up the dust as he walked, making the barest of noises to let paranoid shinobi know he was coming. He didn’t particularly want to set anyone off. <em>Though admittedly he wouldn’t have minded setting Madara off, if only to have an excuse to remove him from his brother’s side. </em>Tobirama shook off those thoughts. <em>They would do no good. He shouldn’t have still been thinking like that, but years of fighting against the Uchiha had left its mark. </em>They were allied, and whether he liked it or not, Uchiha Madara was there to stay, despite the headache both he and his foul chakra caused.</p><p>Nodding to the guards posted at the entrance to the Uchiha’s Compound, he hurried inside, not wanting to spend longer than necessary there. Tensions were still fairly high, what with the move, the construction work, and the presence of two once-rivalling clans now in such close proximity. There was just a little more time needed – time for them all to acclimatise, and then hopefully he would be able to let his guard down in the Uchiha Compound that much more. <em>Though no good shinobi would ever fully relax their guard. </em>And Tobirama was an exemplary shinobi. It was how his father had raised him.</p><p>Hashirama had been taught the political manoeuvring needed by the clan heir, though he had soon figured out his own way of charming people, and despite Butsuma’s many attempts to wipe out the naïve, dreamer view he had of the world, his father hadn’t quite managed it. Instead, he had taught Tobirama his values, taught him what was needed to rein his brother in, and subsequently taught him how to translate Hashirama’s dreams into a feasible reality. <em>It was how the village had come into being in the first place. </em></p><p>He always had been the brain of the operation, while Hashirama was the bridge maker. The strong leader everyone always came expecting to see. Tobirama was working quietly in the background, his brother’s white shadow, his clanmates called him. <em>Not that he interacted with them very much outside of Touka. </em></p><p><em>The more connections a shinobi had, the more points of exploitation and weakness they had, </em>or so father had taught him. Hashirama didn’t listen. He was too strong to need to worry about that, not to mention it suited him. <em>And he was his brother’s white shadow, taking care of any who might seek to exploit his brother before they even reached him. </em></p><p>Not that he’d been able to stop him from becoming friends with Uchiha Madara.</p><p>Sighing softly, Tobirama stared at the house in front of him. It was slightly larger than those around it, with a rather expansive garden too, if he was seeing things correctly. There was probably a koi pond out back too, no doubt. Uchiha were sometimes predictable like that. <em>But he was there, and he had an apology to make. </em>He couldn’t back out then. He wouldn’t.</p><p>Lifting his hand, he knocked on the door, holding his breath as the sound echoed throughout the house. Truthfully, he wasn’t certain how long he waited, but by the time the door opened, he was staring off into the distance, his chakra having gone into sensory mode as it often did when he had nothing better to do <em>than check on everyone’s locations. </em></p><p>Uchiha Madara blinked, having slid the door open, a scowl painted on his face as he spied him standing there. A small part of him had hoped that Sakura would be the one to open the door, but some things couldn’t be helped. Opening his mouth, he readied himself to argue his way into seeing his newfound half-sister—</p><p>Only to have the door slammed in his face.</p><p>Tobirama felt his eye twitch in annoyance. <em>The sheer nerve… </em>His lip curled, but he wasn’t about to be deterred by the Uchiha. He was there to apologise to Sakura, and that was what he would do. Scowling, he knocked again, firmer that time.</p><p>The door slid open once more, and Tobirama opened his mouth once more, ready to rip into the Uchiha, but instead of Madara standing there, the vaguely familiar form of his half-sister was instead. “Senju-san,” she said, ignoring the mutters of the man standing close behind her – arms folded like a petulant child. “How may we help you today?”</p><p>“He won’t be getting any help from me,” Madara informed the pair of them tartly, huffing like the irritating busybody he was.</p><p>“I came to deliver these,” he said, holding up the bouquet of purple hyacinths to his sibling. “Hashirama wished for me to come over, seeing as you turned down yesterday’s dinner invitation. We managed to discover some things relating to you during our search of the clan’s archives. Would you mind inviting me in to discuss this? It’s a conversation better held in private… at least before we make things public knowledge.”</p><p>Sakura blinked, looking alarmingly puzzled at the prospect.</p><p>“Just say no and send him on his way,” Madara grumbled behind her, looking determinedly away from him. “He’ll stink up the house.”</p><p>Tobirama held his flowers out pointedly, almost sighing in relief when she finally took them from his hands. “You are aware of the language of flowers, are you not?” he enquired, shifting on his feet ever so slightly, not wanting to have to explain the message or direct her to someone who could.</p><p>A fond smile played on her lips. “Yes,” she answered finally, nearly making him breathe a sigh of relief. “But if you think a bunch of flowers are enough to make up for an attempt on my life, then you’re sorely mistaken,” she said, and his jaw clenched. <em>He would probably have to ask his brother for ideas then, if only to prove he was actually trying to make it up to their new relation. </em>“But I suppose it’s a start…”</p><p>Tobirama looked up, red clashing with green as an odd sort of amusement flitted across her face.</p><p>“Come in.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Sakura stared at the purple hyacinths gifted to her by one Senju Tobirama. <em>I am sorry. Please forgive me. </em>The meaning of those flowers. The same meaning Ino had taught her what seemed like lifetimes ago, when they were both small children playing in fields and occasionally helping out in the Yamanaka’s flower shop. Dimly, she wondered how her old friend was doing, but shook her head. It did no good to dwell on the past. Ino and everyone else was far out of her reach now.</p><p>But to think she had loved a boy named Uchiha Sasuke back then. <em>Who turned out to be Uchiha Izuna reincarnated. </em>How things had changed since then. She closed her eyes, pushing back the tears which wanted to fall at the thought of Sasuke’s dead father. <em>Her little boy would never know him. </em>Though now he had Izuna’s original uncle to dote on him, even if Uchiha Madara didn’t seem the type to dote on the last member of immediate family he had remaining.</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re just letting him in,” Madara grumbled, like the irritating grump he was, hair still slightly damp from their eventful morning. <em>Though he was likely still sour from his dunk in the koi pond earlier. </em>“This is <em>my </em>house, so why aren’t you listening when I demand that you—”</p><p>Sakura felt her eye twitch. “I would like to see you try and <em>demand </em>me to do anything,” she hissed, grateful Sasuke was out playing in the garden with another boy named Kagami who had invited himself over to play with the <em>‘interesting boy he had seen yesterday’</em>. Sakura had chuckled at the memory of the boy saying those words, and surprisingly enough Madara had been more than happy to let the boys interact out in the garden. Kagami was apparently quite the regular who came to bother Madara, seemingly not minding his gruff demeanour.</p><p>The same gruff and grouchy demeanour which was showing itself in that instant as Madara puffed up like a cat, his mane of inky black hair seeming to puff out ever so slightly as he sucked in a breath to begin berating her. “Now listen here, woman, just because you managed to throw me into the koi pond—”</p><p>“You deserved that for being a creeper,” she shot back, so beyond done with the man. <em>And it wasn’t even noon. </em>Sakura wasn’t sure how much longer she would last without breaking something. <em>Possibly the entire house. </em></p><p>“I was just coming up to wake you and Sasuke up,” he snarled, arms folded across his chest. “Should I apologise for cooking the both of you breakfast too?”</p><p>“You were supposed to apologise for staring at me and my son while we were sleeping,” Sakura muttered, mirroring his posture, staring directly into his eyes, daring him to activate his sharingan. “But I suppose you could apologise for that too. Your cooking is terrible.” The rice had been bland, the fish unseasoned, the pickled vegetables too dry, the miso soup too salty.</p><p>“I was in there for five seconds at most, and I was just surprised that you hadn’t thought to lay any traps to protect my nephew!” Madara barked. “And if you want to be like that then <em>you </em>can do the cooking next time.”</p><p>“Don’t mind if I do.” Her smile was all teeth, promise and challenge written all over her expression. “It won’t take much effort to beat you.”</p><p>Madara’s eye twitched, and then he was advancing on her, towering over her with the height advantage he had on her. “<em>Do you want to dance?” </em>he asked, eyes wild, though still mercifully black.</p><p>Sakura smiled sweetly, not backing down in the slightest as she began reaching for the ridiculously wide collar all Uchiha seemed to wear, fingers curling as she strived to bring Madara down to eye level with her. “<em>Do you want me to drown you in the koi pond?”</em></p><p>Tobirama cleared his throat.</p><p>Blinking, Sakura let Madara’s collar slip through her fingers, tucking a stray lock of pink hair back behind her ear as she was reminded of her guest’s presence. “You were saying…” she said, ignoring the silently fuming man behind her as she moved to take a seat at the low table.</p><p>“About what my brother managed to find in the archives,” Tobirama said, red eyes fixed on her, even as Madara took a seat beside her, legs tucked underneath him neatly. <em>It made him seem oddly more formal… or maybe it was the fact he was no longer folding his arms – instead, staring at Tobirama coldly. </em>“We found out who your Senju relative was,” he continued, and Sakura blinked slowly. <em>That was impossible… unless fate was fucking with her again. </em>“There was a mission to Frost Country roughly just over twenty years ago – the exact dates aren’t too certain, given how shoddy the records keeper was in that period. That coupled with your chakra, and the fact you have the mokuton bloodline…” Tobirama trailed off, glancing between the hyacinths she would need to get a vase for and her blank face. “It’s likely you’re my father’s illegitimate daughter. Senju Butsuma has been known to have affairs before… which makes you mine and Hashirama’s half sibling. Our sister. So my brother would very much like it if you could meet with us for dinner sometime this week,” he said, looking oddly hopeful and eager at the prospect. Though that soon vanished from his face with the next words. “However if you are still uncomfortable around me, I will remove myself from the vicinity.”</p><p>Sakura blinked yet again, silently trying to wrap her head around everything which had just been said. <em>Fate really loved giving her a backstory in that time, didn’t it? </em>She laughed somewhat hysterically. <em>It was almost like she was meant to be there… </em>Shaking her head at the thought, she gathered her wits once more. “I will let you know the best time for that soon. Though I think I would rather like to settle in to the village before I go about meeting… family here.”</p><p>Tobirama nodded. “Perfectly understandable.” He rose to his feet. “Thank you for your time. I do hope you will give me another chance to get to know you and <em>my</em> nephew.” Inclining his head, he walked to the door. “I will see myself out,” he spoke, leaving just as swiftly as he had come, seeming oddly carefree as he left – as though he hadn’t just dumped a whole load of confusing information on her.</p><p>Sakura climbed to her own feet then, blinking as she saw the irritated expression on Madara’s face. Quietly, she wondered what had annoyed him, but then she remembered he <em>despised </em>Tobirama – so it probably couldn’t be helped that he looked so riled.</p><p>Lifting the bouquet of purple hyacinths, she arched an eyebrow enquiringly as she glanced down at the seething man. “I don’t suppose you have a vase lying about which I can put these in?”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><em>His nephew? </em>Madara’s lip curled, a snarl wanting to rip itself from his throat at Tobirama’s words. Sasuke was <em>his</em>. The last piece of blood family he had left. The last piece of Izuna – the one Tobirama himself had killed. <em>And now Tobirama was related to Sasuke too… </em>His eyes turned on the woman. <em>Haruno. Or would she soon be going by Senju? </em></p><p>Tobirama and Hashirama’s half-sister. A bastard daughter of the main Senju line.</p><p><em>What had Izuna been thinking? </em>Madara scowled, annoyed at his brother for making a mess, annoyed at his brother for dying and leaving him behind to clear up this clusterfuck. The elders were not going to be happy. He glared at the vase holding the purple flowers that bastard had brought—</p><p>Madara blinked. <em>He probably ought to stop calling Tobirama that, what with him sheltering the Senju’s actual bastard. </em>His black eyes roamed over his pink-haired guest, taking in her small, lithe form. Had she had black hair and black eyes, she probably would have been able to pass for an Uchiha… <em>well, if her skin had been a bit more paler and slightly pinker</em>. Madara sighed wistfully. <em>She would probably have been his sister-in-law had Izuna lived… </em></p><p>“If you keep looking at me with that expression you’ll be swimming with the fishies,” Sakura informed him, hands clenching into fists as she glared at him for what had to be the hundredth time that morning.</p><p>He rolled his eyes. “Hn,” he grunted, turning his glare back on the flowers. <em>He’d burn them later tonight, </em>he decided.</p><p>“Don’t even think about burning them later tonight,” Sakura said, and Madara shuddered. <em>How the hell had she known he was thinking about burning them later? </em>He could’ve just burnt them right then and there.</p><p>
  <em>An excellent idea.</em>
</p><p>“Very well,” Madara said, rising to his feet, grabbing the bouquet. “I’ll burn them now.”</p><p>“Put them down,” Sakura hissed, eye twitching in irritation as she reached for the flowers her <em>half-brother </em>had given to her. “Madara-san, put them down right now. They were a gift of apology.”</p><p>“Why should I do that?” he asked, relishing in the way her eye continued to twitch. “In case you’re forgetting I despise Senju Tobirama… why would I want to keep flowers he gifted in this house?”</p><p>“Kaa-chan, oji-san…?” Sasuke’s voice interrupted their brewing argument and fight, and he and Kagami came back inside the house, taking off their shoes by the door. “Are we… uh… interrupting?”</p><p>Sakura smiled. “No, Sasuke,” she said, glaring pointedly at him. “Your oji-san was just about to stop being a moronic buffoon and put those flowers down before he winds up in the koi pond again like a half-drowned rat.”</p><p>Madara dropped the flowers, choosing instead to advance on her yet again, bristling at her audacity, irritation coursing through him at her comment. <em>He was the Uchiha Clan Head</em>. “Who exactly are you calling a moronic buffoon?” he snarled.</p><p>Sakura bared her teeth. “I thought that was obvious,” she retorted.</p><p>“Are they usually like this?” Kagami asked innocuously from Sasuke’s side, peering at the two of them as they waited in the doorway. Madara almost winced, reminded of their audience waiting there.</p><p>“They’ve been like this since morning,” Sasuke informed him sagely, before he spoke up yet again. “Uh, kaa-chan? When will lunch be ready?”</p><p>Sakura paused. “I can start cooking now, so it won’t take me too long,” she said, a smile on her face as she stared at his nephew. “Don’t worry. I won’t let your oji-san feed you the same pig slop he served for breakfast.”</p><p>Madara felt his eye twitch. “That was perfectly acceptable cooking!” he snarled at her, glaring daggers into her back as she walked into his kitchen, sitting down with a huff as the boys went further into the house. <em>Likely to Sasuke’s room if the pitter-patter of tiny feet up the stairs was any sort of indication. </em>He could still hear them talking, the words drowned out slightly as the sounds of pots clanking reached him from the kitchen.</p><p>The house was noisy. Horribly so.</p><p>A smile curved at his lips.</p><p>
  <em>Not that he really minded.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Settling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>No matter how vehemently she tried to deny it, the fact was undeniable. She wanted to be in Konohagakure. How many times had she told herself she was just biding her time waiting for a chance to escape with her son? Sakura scoffed. <em>There was a reason she hadn’t made that big of an effort to escape when Madara had dragged her there albeit unwillingly. </em>It was a subconscious desire of hers which she was only just realising, or so it seemed.</p><p>In Frost Country she had felt something was missing. A sensation in the back of her head that something wasn’t quite right as she fumbled through her peaceful life there. There had been something she was missing. Something she was longing for.</p><p>Now in Konoha, that feeling was gone. In its place was relief and happiness, and Sakura knew she could hardly deny that she had missed the familiar trees which surrounded Konohagakure. The leaves which had <em>hidden </em>their village. Well, at least until it had grown and the foliage had been trimmed back.</p><p>There were so many more trees than before, but so many less buildings, all of which were segregated by clan. Though Konoha had been formed to unite clans, it was still in its infancy. Trust was still thin, meaning no one in their right mind would want to move into a house surrounded by once unallied or enemy clans. Perhaps once more civilians started migrating there under the promise of protection…</p><p>Sakura hummed under her breath, leaning against a nearby pillar as she watched her son play with Kagami. They were tussling, though Kagami’s movements were that much more refined – the result of being raised ready for a war. A war which had been called to a halt with the Senju-Uchiha alliance, and the foundation of Konoha. Sighing, she could only smile and make a mental note to begin training her son at the earliest convenience available.</p><p>In due time, war would break out again – what with other villages of shinobi clans springing up in all the other countries. <em>War was inevitable. </em>It was a sad fact that Sakura had learnt. The only question was how big it would get. She had paid attention in the history lessons given in the village. It hadn’t taken too long after the villages had been formed. <em>Ten years in order for the villages to stabilise… then…</em> Sakura bit her lip. <em>Drought or flood, or other natural disaster… Daimyo demanding more land because of it… </em>But she would worry about that when the time came, or at least silently start planning on what to do in order to alleviate the coming hardships.</p><p>For now she could enjoy the peace and quiet of the village in its founding years. <em>Mourn the loss of Izuna, as she had been doing silently for the last five years. </em>She let out a breath, hand going to her head, gripping at the hair there as she remembered. <em>Remembered how they’d been outside of the village. How her water had broken when they were exploring Uzushio. How they had imagined rebuilding it. </em></p><p>She could still remember how red his blood had been, leaking across the blackened rock of the isle. <em>How it had activated some seal there. How it had sent her careening into the past with a new-born clutched to her chest. </em></p><p>Those first few months had been a struggle, what with adjusting to the new time period… and how single mothers were scorned and looked down upon. <em>Needless to say there had been a lot of fists thrown in that time. </em>But she had settled eventually, and now she was going through that process again. Though deep in her heart, Sakura always knew Konoha would always be home. There was no other option for her.</p><p><em>Indoctrinated, </em>Izuna had called her. She barked out a laugh, remembering fonder times, of meetings under the blossoms of sakura trees and hands held under the moon’s watch.</p><p>Footsteps behind her drew her out of those thoughts, and Sakura blinked as she spied Madara coming to a stop beside her. She watched him then, out of the corner of her eye, ignoring the ache in her heart when Izuna’s features overlaid his. <em>They were brothers, it was hardly surprising they shared some common features between them. </em>Only Madara was ten times more irritating than his brother had ever been.</p><p>“What are you staring at my son for, creeper?” she grumbled, arms folded.</p><p>Madara huffed, not deigning to look at her. She returned the favour. “I’m watching <em>my </em>nephew play with Nakano’s son, thank you very much.”</p><p>“Should I invite Tobirama-san and Hashirama-sama over so they can do the same?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, a smirk curling at her lips at the disgust and annoyance which crept over his face.</p><p>“And here I thought you wanted to settle before acquainting yourself with your <em>brothers</em>…” Madara remarked, expression turning solemn as he all but choked out the last word. <em>How could she forget he didn’t have any? </em></p><p>Sighing, Sakura fell quiet, hating the hum of contentment which rumbled from his chest as he assumed himself to have won their little bout of verbal sparring. <em>She let him win. </em>She simply didn’t want to make him mope, because the few times she had caught him doing that… <em>she had slipped into the spiral of dark thoughts threatening to overwhelm her.</em></p><p>Izuna was gone.</p><p>Dead.</p><p>He wouldn’t be coming back again, not unless it was as Uchiha Sasuke some hundred years into the future. The fact of the matter was the same either way – she would never see the love of her life again, and it left a hole in her heart. One which ate away at her. One which accused her. <em>She should have gone forward to the Uchiha Clan and explained… and saved Izuna. She could’ve. She should’ve. </em></p><p>But she was selfish.</p><p>
  <em>She wanted her son to grow up in an environment where he wouldn’t be forced to hate the clan from which she hailed from. A place where she wouldn’t have had to hide her Senju heritage and all the abilities which came with it. </em>
</p><p>The only place she could’ve had any semblance of peace was Konoha. So she had hidden away and waited. Hidden away, telling herself she wouldn’t need to return to the leaves which had hidden her once. That she didn’t have to stomach the inevitable fallout from being found as a Senju with an Uchiha for a son.</p><p>
  <em>Yet there she was…</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Madara rubbed at his temples, soothing the ache threatening to build there as he listened to the reports from the border patrols. <em>From their spies hidden throughout the land. </em>There was a fledgling village just like their own building itself up in Earth Country. Iwagakure, they were calling it. It wasn’t the only one, but it was the one founded so closely after their own. <em>Meaning their infrastructure would be the best behind their own… </em>He clicked his tongue as he leafed through some of the written documentation, attention flickering between the woman in front of him and the scribbles someone thought was actual writing.</p><p>
  <em>Incompetent fools. </em>
</p><p>Scowling, he waved for the woman to leave, closing his eyes as a voice vaguely reminiscent of Izuna reminded him. <em>Her name was Kana. </em>Madara laughed, a short, brief, hopeless chuckle. He could almost picture his brother standing there in the room, leaning back against the wall as he chided him. <em>The brat who always thought he knew better. </em></p><p>His eyes watered, and Madara scowled at the open door. <em>Allergies, no doubt. </em>He got to his feet, hurrying over to the screen door, drawing it to as he went back to his business of sorting out the documents within the clan hall. It was no longer attached to his house, meaning nobody went there to bother him about this or that. <em>Though now that he thought about it, not many people had come… </em></p><p>He’d just become that much more scarier after Izuna had died. Nobody dared to argue—</p><p>Madara sighed, thinking of pink hair, jade green eyes narrowed in anger, and pale lips pulled back in a snarl. <em>One person dared to, </em>though she wasn’t clan. <em>She wasn’t Izuna. </em>His shoulders slumped, teeth grinding together.</p><p><em>A terrible habit, </em>or so Ohara-sama had said before she passed last winter. <em>She was dead now, just like Izuna… only her life hadn’t been cut short. </em>He sighed deeper that time, looking up as he heard the screen door open.</p><p>“Kana—”</p><p>Blinking, Madara stared at the slight form of his nephew as he made his way inside, clutching a cloth-covered box. “Oji-san,” Sasuke said, a brilliant smile on his lips. “Kaa-chan made lunch. She sent me over to give this to you!”</p><p><em>He definitely got the smiling from his mother,</em> Madara decided, <em>in fact, he probably got quite a lot more of the extreme ones from her. </em>Though he hadn’t seen his precious nephew angry yet, so he couldn’t quite make the executive decision yet on who he took after in that regards. Izuna had always been quiet in anger, his smiles closer to smirks when he drove the both of them mad with his antics. <em>How many times had he dumped his bratty brother in the koi pond? </em></p><p>“She says you have to eat,” Sasuke said, no doubt parroting his mother. “Uh, kaa-chan said that ‘dumb morons like your oji-san sometimes forget because they’re stupid’ or something like that,” he continued, heedless of the twitch Madara could feel building in his right eye. <em>That woman… </em>He seethed, gritting his teeth as he accepted the bento.</p><p>“Thank your kaa-chan for me, would you?” he muttered through gritted teeth, hating the way the slight smell creeping from the closed box made his stomach rumble. <em>Now he would have no choice to eat that woman’s cooking… or risk bumping into Hashirama if he went to eat at one of the Akimichi’s restaurants they had opened up recently. </em>As much as he enjoyed the company of his best friend and rival, he didn’t much feel like dealing with Hashirama’s changing moods. Not after the latest meeting in his office. <em>When he had blown off his concerns about Iwagakure as it called itself now. </em>The sooner they acted, the better. He shook his head, focusing his attention back on his nephew. <em>Who would only become a casualty if Iwagakure or any other of the copycats proved themselves hostile.</em></p><p>Sasuke’s smile only grew wider, ignorant to the dark turn of his thoughts. <em>Hashirama had always been the optimist out of the pair of them.</em> “Will do, oji-san!” he called, charging back outside, conveniently forgetting to shut the door. Though his allergies weren’t affecting him as much right then.</p><p>Silently, he cracked open his lunch, savouring the taste of the nori rice and the chicken karaage, a smile on his lips when he spied the inarizushi tucked inside. Dimly, he made a note to complain to Sakura about his lunch. <em>The rice was much too dry, and the chicken too salty, and his favourite not sweet enough.</em></p><p>It was perfect. <em>Not that she ever had to know that.</em></p><p>All his own food had grown tasteless in the months following his brother’s death. <em>He supposed it was only right that Izuna’s would-be-wife was the one to bring the flavour back. </em>A scoff left his lips as he closed the bento back up, wrapping it in the fabric it had been delivered in. <em>What was he thinking? </em>He shook his head, picking his brush back up as he delved back into the tedious task of completing all the necessary documentation for his clan.</p><p>He didn’t envy Hashirama and his Hokage hat at all, what with all the paperwork it had dumped in his friend’s lap. <em>He just regretted not having the power to make people see his worries – to make them realise that his concerns weren’t just the ravings of a man still embroiled in war. </em>They were just worries for the future. Worries for his clan.</p><p>But he would be patient for now.</p><p>He had a nephew to look after, and there was still a lot to be done what with him naming his heir… which meant dealing with the clan elders, no matter how much the thought made his skin roil. <em>Besides, if he could take the seat of Second Hokage… </em>He closed his eyes with yet another sigh, irritation coursing through him at the thought of the younger Senju brother. <em>Nothing good would ever come if he took that post. </em></p><p>
  <em>Especially not for his clan.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Anija.” His voice cut through the tension building in the room. “Just stop,” he said, sighing quietly as his brother shifted in his seat for what had to be the thousandth time. “I’ve given her the offer, and if and when she wants to take it, she will let us know.”</p><p>Hashirama frowned. “But what if she took it the wrong way?” he asked, chewing on his lip as he stared down at their dinner, glancing at the space next to him as though they were missing a person. They were, but somehow Tobirama figured they still had a long way to go before Sakura could join the three of them comfortably. “I should have gone…”</p><p>Frowning, Tobirama stared down at his dinner.</p><p>Mito cleared her throat pointedly, giving her husband a sharp elbow in the side, nodding at his slightly crestfallen expression. “Of course, not that my husband is doubting you,” she said meaningfully, and Tobirama smiled the slightest bit as his brother apologised for his wording. <em>Their marriage had been a boon for the entire clan. </em>Tobirama was fairly certain no one could guide his brother better than the Uzumaki princess. <em>Though it was less guiding, and more controlling. </em></p><p>Hashirama really did have to stop leaving his head in the clouds so often. But then again, it was how the village had been made – dreamt up by him, with the slightest bit of assistance from one Uchiha Madara, of course.</p><p>“We shouldn’t bother her until she’s ready,” Tobirama said, ignoring the disappointment which surged in his gut at how their newly discovered sister was shunning them somewhat. <em>And it was all his fault. </em>If he hadn’t been having a bad day… if he hadn’t leapt to conclusions… if he had been calmer and more collected… if he hadn’t been on the mission with <em>Uchiha Madara</em>… then he wouldn’t have acted in the way that he had. A scowl curled at his lips. <em>There was no doubt the Uchiha was poisoning their sister against them. </em></p><p>It would be just like him to be petty and spiteful.</p><p>He was only growing worse as time went on, what with his warmongering. He had heard what he’d tried to tell his clan sometime before they had left on the mission to Frost Country. His brother had brushed off his worries and complaints, saying Madara could be funny like that at times. <em>That Tobirama needed to stop being so sceptical of the Uchiha. </em></p><p>It wasn’t the Uchiha as a whole which bothered him. <em>Only Uchiha Madara, and his vile chakra. </em>The rest of the clan he held a decent opinion of. <em>After all, they weren’t listening to the ravings of their mad leader. </em></p><p>“Don’t you think I should go over and say hello… I mean, I’ve been meaning to drop by Madara. I haven’t seen him recently,” Hashirama said, worry tugging at his lips as he no doubt thought of the Uchiha.</p><p>“Good riddance,” Tobirama muttered, ignoring the pointed look he received from his elder brother in response to his admission.</p><p>His shoulders slumped down, a pout on his face. “I guess the mission didn’t resolve things between the pair of you,” he remarked, and Tobirama felt a sliver of dread creep down his spine. “Maybe you should train together—”</p><p>“Neither of us want to interact with each other,” he said, somewhat tired of his brother’s attempts to force the two of them together. <em>But they were oil and water. </em>They didn’t mix, and no matter how his brother meddled, no sort of emulsion would be made. There was no equal ground between the pair of them, and the sooner his brother realised that, the better. <em>Not that it would be easy to drive that message into his thick skull. </em>Though Tobirama supposed that thick skull of his was what had allowed his brother’s dreams to come true. “Forcing us together will only make things worse… and in case you’re forgetting, I killed Izuna.”</p><p>His brother’s lips turned downward.</p><p>“Like it or not,” he continued, not letting him get a word in edgewise. “Madara will not forget that fact anytime soon, if ever… so, just let me give him space, anija,” he said, sighing heavily as he felt his emotions seep forth. “I’m tired of feeling like I might receive a knife to the back whenever I’m in that man’s presence.”</p><p>“Madara wouldn’t do that!” Hashirama protested, and Tobirama set his dining utensils down with a slight clink.</p><p>“Hashirama!” Mito spoke sharply, but it was too late for her to ask him to stay and make their dinner less awkward.</p><p>Tobirama inclined his head, feeling slightly apologetic as he glanced at his heavily pregnant sister-in-law. His nephew was due soon, and there would be no need to unduly stress her out anytime soon. Sadly enough, the conversations which sometimes took place between the two of them could do just that. <em>What with the slight tensions still between them and the Uchiha, all thanks to himself</em>. “Forgive me, but I have business to attend to,” he said, rising to his feet with all of the grace the snow leopards had imparted to him. “If you have need of me, I’ll be in my lab.” There was still so many jutsu he had to flick through and complete.</p><p>Jutsu creation never stopped, nor did his brother’s paperwork – even with him taking over a vast majority of the Senju’s own paperwork. Some of that only added to his brother’s pile, but every little helped. Which was how Tobirama found himself flicking through the requests their old clients had recently sent in. <em>He would no doubt need to confer with his brother earlier tomorrow. </em>A scowl twisted at his lips. <em>And there were no doubts Madara would eventually show his face for the exact same reason. </em>He had been in his office for the majority of the afternoon, likely dealing with similar paperwork to that which he was about to start trawling through.</p><p>He checked the clock as he entered his lab, closing his eyes as he read the time. One glance at the pile was all he needed to know it would be yet another late night. <em>Maybe some day soon he’d be able to get a decent night of sleep. </em>He didn’t particularly want to develop the same bags Madara had under his eyes. Scoffing at the thought, he took his seat, picking up his brush as he got to work. <em>Hopefully, he’d be able to scrape an hour for work on all his jutsu…</em></p><p>A laugh found its way to his lips.</p><p>
  <em>What an idyllic thought.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The world outside was dark by the time he extinguished the main lamp by his desk. Madara rubbed at his eyes with his hand, glad ink spills and stains were a thing of the past as he took the chance to rest his tired eyes. <em>It was about time he went home, </em>or so he mused as he rose to his feet, paperwork organised and locked away. The only thing left to deal with was the lamp by the tablet he had yet to move to the Uchiha Shrine.</p><p>His eyes spun red, three tomoe morphing into the pattern of the mangekyou as he peered at the tablet. “Still only half legible,” he murmured, sighing softly. <em>Even the fully evolved eternal mangekyou couldn’t read all of it. </em>He tilted his head, extinguishing the light, plunging the room into darkness.</p><p>He stepped out, pulling the door shut behind him, starting on his path home only to pause at the rustling in the bushes. His eyes narrowed, but it was only a little black cat. <em>Probably one of the clan’s common cat summons, </em>he mused, heading home without a second thought.</p><p>Behind him, yellow eyes gleamed in the moonlight.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He dreamt of the battlefield, his blood thrumming through his veins, teeth bared in a mockery of a grin as the wind swept his wild hair from side to side. <em>He was alive. He was free. </em>Fire crackled around him, sharingan blazing in his eyes as he took in the sights around him. His clan was <em>whole </em>and fighting, the enemy dying – but not before they took some of his clan with them. The coppery scent of blood hit him then, coupled with the smell of burning flesh, and his gaze narrowed.</p><p>The forest around them had been beautiful once, perhaps before war had marred it. Trees in the distance were taller, carrying leaves of the deepest green he had seen, but around them the forest was barren. The trees there were nothing more than dead husks. Perfect kindling material for all the fire jutsu he and his clanmates liked to unleash against their enemies dressed in red and brown. Dimly, he wondered what clan would dress as such. It wasn’t a sensible thing to wear in Fire Country, despite what the name would have people believe. <em>No. </em>Their clothing was something more akin to what he’d seen on one of the few missions which had taken him so very far from his homeland. <em>But where exactly? </em>He couldn’t quite remember.</p><p>He wouldn’t have to worry about them. <em>As soon as the village was built, battles like the one before him would lessen, and in time hopefully vanish. </em>Well, if Hashirama’s and his dream panned out like he wanted it to. Konohagakure would be a place where no more children had to die. Where shinobi clans were united underneath one banner. One symbol. Something which unified them all – the forehead protector he and his old friend had dreamt up. Chuckling, his hand went to his own forehead, attention still focused on the fleeing enemies in front of him.</p><p>Metal and fabric met his fingertips.</p><p>Frowning, he pulled the object loose, blinking at the sight of the leaf insignia both he and Hashirama had poured over for a few days. The symbol of Konohagakure. His gaze flickered over to the rest of the shinobi from his clan, sharingan spinning as he took in the sight of those forehead protectors in place, light glinting off the carved metal even as the sounds of fighting vanished completely. The battle was over.</p><p>“Madara-sama!” Hikaku leapt to his side, face uncharacteristically grim as he did so. Madara frowned again, eyes narrowed into slits at the unease his clansman was radiating as he stood there. “Please come with me.”</p><p>Raising an eyebrow in question, he padded behind the slightly younger man. “What is the problem here?” he enquired, having had no response from his questioning stare – which Hikaku usually responded to along with the rest of the clan.</p><p>“They tried their best to protect him,” Hikaku said, leading them over to a small, prone body. “But an attack slipped past their guard—”</p><p>Madara reached for the too small corpse, heart in his throat, turning the body over with a slightly trembling hand.</p><p>Little Sasuke stared right back, coal black eyes glazed over in death, skin far too ashen to count amongst the living. Small lips twisted into a bloodied smile. <em>“You sure did an excellent job of protecting your family, huh?” </em>Sasuke’s dead body spoke, the black forehead protector gleaming in the light of the flames around them as the sun vanished behind the clouds.</p><p>“No,” he whispered, whispers echoing in his ears, taunting him.</p><p><em>“For Iwagakure,” </em>they whispered, and Madara froze as he remembered exactly where he had seen colour schemes of brown and red. <em>Earth Country. </em>Home to the budding village of Iwagakure. The very place he was trying to warn Hashirama about.</p><p>Above him, the sun came out from behind the clouds, blood red and bleeding down the amber sky, bathing the world in an eerie crimson light.</p><p> </p><p>He gasped awake, heart pounding in his chest, sharingan spinning as he sat bolt upright in the sheets, one clammy hand curled around the grip of one of the many kunai stored around his room. “Just a dream,” he muttered, grounding himself back in reality. Shoving the covers back, he stood, feet making no sound as he padded his way over to little Sasuke’s room.</p><p>Madara had ensured they had another futon for that night, and silently he was glad for that. No matter how adorable his nephew had looked early in the morning, snuggled up next to his mother, he preferred the last piece of blood family in a place where he could look – <em>see that he was still whole and living </em>– without being called a creeper.</p><p>Sasuke sighed softly, clutching some absurd fluffy monstrosity of a <em>teddy bear </em>to his chest, inky black hair splayed out over his pillow as he slept on peacefully. <em>Blissfully ignorant to the demons which lurked in the shadows. </em>His eyes burnt red, taking in the slow rise and fall of his chest, reassuring himself his nephew was alive and well before he backed out of the doorway. His hand went to his head, the door clicking shut softly behind him as he ran his fingers through his tangled mane of hair. “Just a dream,” he reminded himself, shaking his head at the notion.</p><p>Shinobi weren’t supposed to let dreams like that get in there way. Madara wouldn’t. His throat was dry, almost burning, and sighing quietly, he wandered downstairs. He was having a drink. He needed one after that dream. <em>That nightmare. </em></p><p>He couldn’t get the picture out of his mind, stomach twisting at the thought of his nephew dead on the battlefield somewhere. They had built the village so that didn’t happen. <em>But Hashirama was far too optimistic. </em>He closed his eyes, only to snap them back open as he heard a sound in front of him.</p><p>The scene in front of him was eerily well-placed. Sakura knelt on the engawa, a cushion under her legs as she set down a steaming cup beside her. Behind her, the moon hung low in the sky, pale white light illuminating the garden before her. Koi splashed in the pond, and Madara winced. He remembered landing in those waters far too well.</p><p>“I know you’re there,” Sakura spoke, voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. “If you’re going to join me, then stop being a creeper and come and sit,” she demanded.</p><p>Madara scoffed. “I’m having a drink, woman,” he grumbled, going to the cabinets where he kept the sake. He was far too familiar with that drink as of late. “That’s all.”</p><p>“Bad dream?” she enquired, showcasing her perceptive abilities yet again. He wondered if having children did that to someone. He could still dimly remember the times his mother had seemingly read his and his father’s thoughts. It was one of the few time Uchiha Tajima had looked somewhat unnerved and guilty.</p><p><em>Look at him, reminiscing on old times. </em>He shook his head, casting those thoughts off. Reminiscing about the past only brought him pain. A stabbing feeling in his chest when he realised he was all alone. <em>Well, mostly. </em></p><p>“Drowning your sorrows in sake isn’t the best solution, you know,” Sakura said, and Madara soon found himself on the receiving end of a judgemental green-eyed stare. “It’ll become a habit before you realise, and alcoholics don’t tend to make the best role models for children.”</p><p>Madara mulled over how much his father had drunk after his mother’s death. A harsh snort left his lips. “I’m only having one cup,” he said, uncertain of why he felt the need to justify himself to the slip of a pink-haired woman. <em>A Senju. </em>There in his house. His father was probably rolling in his grave.</p><p>“Just drink some warm milk and get back to bed,” Sakura grumbled, standing then. “You’ll only be grumpier than usual if you don’t get enough sleep.”</p><p>“Warm milk?” he hissed. “Do you take me for some sort of petulant child?” he questioned, returning the scathing stare she sent his way.</p><p>One pink brow rose. “Do you really want me to answer that?”</p><p>Madara shifted on his feet. “Not particularly,” he said. He had gotten to know the woman a bit too well, despite her short stay there with him. “I have a feeling I wouldn’t particularly like the answer.”</p><p>“Hmm,” Sakura hummed. “Well, what do you know? You might actually have a brain inside that thick skull of yours.”</p><p>“Are you deliberately trying to ruin my night?” Madara grumbled, bottle of sake and cup in hand.</p><p>“Tempting,” Sakura said airily, drifting past him to venture further into the house, leaving the screen door open behind her. He was left staring out at the peaceful night. It was so still. Almost painfully so. Madara was only waiting for something to ruin the scene in front of him. He stared at the unopened bottle of sake, reminding himself he was only to have one cup. <em>Nothing more. </em></p><p>Sakura came back then, steaming cup in hand which she soon placed down in front of him, before grabbing the sake and the cup and stowing them away in the blink of an eye. Choking on the words of annoyance, Madara puffed up, sucking in a large breath, ready to berate the annoyance of a houseguest in a single breath.</p><p>Sakura merely raised an eyebrow again, staring down at him judgingly. “It is nearly one in the morning,” she said, folding her arms as she gestured to the warm milk in front of him. “If you want to drink sake, then you have to drink it at a reasonable time – otherwise, just shut up, drink your milk, and get back to sleep. Sake won’t help you there.”</p><p>Madara felt his lip curl, the muted thuds he could hear telling him Sakura had vanished back upstairs, likely to get back to bed. He ought to have been doing the same. Gingerly, he glanced between the cabinets which held his sake and the steaming cup of milk before him.</p><p>“Annoying woman.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Her heart grew restless the longer she languished there – hidden away in the home of one Uchiha Madara. There was an itch to go outside. The itch to go out on a mission for her homeland. The itch to see how the hospital in the era of the First Hokage. She wasn’t made for sitting about in the house, and she had done plenty of that in the last five years, what with being a single mother. Chewing on the rice, she frowned, hating the oddly tense silence there was to the house as the three of them ate at the table.</p><p>She didn’t like the thought of breaking that quiet. She didn’t think it was meant to be broken, and if there was one thing she knew, if Madara pissed her off then they would be in a sour mood for the rest of the day – what with all the bickering they got up to. They were oddly alike in that way, and Sakura was highly alarmed at the thought. <em>Who knew she would have so many similarities to her dead lover’s brother? </em>Her shoulders sunk, and she set her chopsticks down with a light clink. “I am going to go and register myself as a shinobi of Konohagakure,” she said, reaching over to smooth her son’s hair down somewhat despite his noises of protest. “I just need to head over to the Hokage’s office to do that, correct?”</p><p>Madara nodded with a quiet grunt, continuing to eat his food.</p><p>“You will look after Sasuke while I’m away,” she said, not phrasing it as a question. Though she didn’t particularly trust him with many things, Sakura was fairly certain Madara would protect his last remaining blood family viciously. So she could leave Sasuke to him temporarily, whilst she ventured out into Konoha.</p><p>He folded his arms then. “Of course,” he remarked, lip curling into that sneer she was so familiar with. “I’m not incompetent, unlike that Senju.”</p><p>Sakura rolled her eyes, sighing quietly as she thought about the looming prospect of <em>getting to know her new ‘brothers’</em>. Madara would no doubt make her life extraordinary difficult when it came to that. Tobirama’s general dislike of the man would do her no favours either. Though they now had Sasuke as being a common factor between them both. Sakura rubbed at her temples, slipping on her sandals as she made to go outside. She could feel the headache brewing.</p><p><em>Still… at least there was Hashirama to smooth things out as well, </em>or so Sakura mused as she made her way towards the familiar building, painted a deep, burning red. Her eldest half-brother, or so he believed himself to be.</p><p>Sakura figured she might as well think of him as her brother. <em>Better to go along with their assumptions, which meant becoming the sister of one of the greatest shinobi to ever live. </em>Not to mention she was currently rooming with the <em>Demon of Konoha</em> himself. A laugh escaped her. <em>What had become of her life? </em></p><p>“It’s Haruno-san, isn’t it?” a vaguely familiar voice sounded once she had entered the lobby. “Or may I call you Sakura-san?”</p><p>Turning, Sakura blinked at the sight of the tall brunette Senju at her side. “Sakura, please,” she said, realisation hitting as she spotted the bold red lipstick painting her lips and the sharp cut of the silky brown hair. She was the Senju who had accompanied Tobirama, Hikaku, and Madara up to Frost Country. “And you might be?”</p><p>“My name is Touka, of the Senju Clan, as you had probably figured,” she said, lips curving up into a slight smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well, despite the… circumstances of your arrival here.”</p><p>Sakura blinked, frowning at the memory of being slung over Madara’s shoulder. It didn’t feel as embarrassing as it ought to. <em>Probably because she had wanted to be dragged back to Konoha, because part of her unconsciously seemed to realise she would have been far too stubborn otherwise</em>. “Well, it’s nice to finally be introduced to you properly,” she said, nodding at the taller woman. “Are you headed to see the Hokage too?” she asked, falling into step beside the older woman as they made their way up the stairs at a leisurely pace.</p><p>“Yes,” Touka nodded. “I have some things to discuss with my cousin, and I presume you do as well. Are you perhaps registering as a shinobi of the village?”</p><p>“How ever did you guess?” Sakura asked, smiling slightly at the chuckle Touka let out.</p><p>“It will be nice to have another woman around,” Touka said. “There are too few of us at the moment, though I do believe some matriarchal clans are currently considering joining us… though I suppose we’ll have to wait and see how negotiations go.”</p><p>Sakura inclined her head. “Is that so,” she murmured, just as they arrived outside the door to the Hokage’s office.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Tobirama closed his eyes, expanding his sensory capabilities to their maximum, sighing quietly as the chakra signals of everyone in the village flared into existence. His brother was a bright flare on his radar, burning radiantly, emitting that soothing earthy-wood feel. Of course, on the other side of the village was his brother’s worst enemy. <em>His best friend. </em>His eyes narrowed, feeling the smaller blip of chakra he recognised as Izuna’s son. <em>His nephew. </em></p><p>Sakura had left the house, and was making her way to his brother, if he was guessing her final destination correctly. Silently, he prayed Hashirama wouldn’t scare her off – or worse, annoy her – with his cheerful enthusiasm. Knowing him, he would no doubt try and get her involved in <em>family bonding </em>activities. Tobirama let out a sigh, shoulders sinking as he thought on that lost cause. His half-sister would have a difficult time getting out without a reservation for dinner at their home. <em>Or maybe he’d try to entice her with comparing their mokuton abilities. </em>They had both discovered their own styles.</p><p>Tilting his head in contemplation, he turned his focus back to his sensory abilities. He needed to keep exercising them, what with more traffic flowing through their budding village. After all, in the event of infiltrators or assassins, he was the best early warning system their village had. Though admittedly he would need to think of a better one.</p><p>He wasn’t always inside the village, and they were intending for their creation to last beyond them… which meant he and Mito might have a new sealing project – one for after the majority of clans had joined them. <em>Then they would be able to start fortifying the village as a whole. Perhaps a wall?</em> He tilted his head. <em>It would make a good surface for seals.</em></p><p>Tobirama shook his head. <em>He was getting off track. </em>He needed to focus on his sensory training rather than possible projects for the future. There was enough on his plate as it was, and he needed to figure out an administration system as soon as possible. The one used within their clan wouldn’t be able to cope with the larger amount the village as a whole would generate.</p><p><em>Perhaps Sakura would be able to help him there? </em>he mused, before he shook his head at the errant thought. Sakura didn’t trust him. His shoulders sunk. It wasn’t surprising, and it would take him time to repair that – though he had made headway with the flowers. He could claw it back slowly. He <em>would</em> claw it back slowly. It was the mess he had made, and he would fix that.</p><p><em>Just another something to add to the list of things he had to do. </em>Tobirama opened his eyes, red eyes flickering over onto the pile of paperwork on his desk. <em>The same list which just kept growing and growing.</em></p><p>He rubbed at his tired eyes.</p><p>
  <em>It was going to be yet another long day.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Doubt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tinges of familiarity in the office were there, from the general shape and the paleness of the walls, but it was underlyingly different from the Hokage’s office she had known and loved. There was also the added fact there was a certain brunette so-called God of Shinobi who was sitting behind the mokuton-crafted desk with an eager, oddly puppy-like expression on his face when he spied her there in the doorway.</p><p>Fondness surged inside her, mind overlaying the picture with short, spiky blonde locks and whiskered cheeks. But Naruto wasn’t there anymore. He was gone. And Sakura was caught there out of her time. <em>But she would have family there soon enough. </em>Well, more family. <em>Family was what she made it. </em></p><p>Plastering a polite smile on her lips, she entered alongside Touka, nervous excitement rolling around inside her gut at the thought of both interacting with Hashirama – her would-be brother there – and the prospect of becoming a shinobi of Konoha once more. It gave her a sense of belonging, a grounding feeling that she had been missing back in Frost Country. Sakura relished in it.</p><p>“Sakura-c—san!” His voice rolled through the air between them, his cheer and enthusiasm infectious as he stood to greet them.</p><p>Touka cleared her throat then, an amused twinkle gleaming in her eyes as dark brown eyes shifted from Sakura to her.</p><p>“Cousin,” Hashirama greeted, smiling somewhat sheepishly – as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Which, to be fair, was probably somewhat apt. He was the <em>Hokage, </em>the leader of the village, and it called for some professionalism. Sakura tilted her head, thinking of a blonde lady who broke desks and was chronically drunk, much to her own consternation.</p><p>Medics made the worst patients.</p><p>It was probably why Sakura wasn’t a huge fan of alcohol. Inwardly, Sakura snickered, remembering the face Madara had made when she’d stolen away his sake. <em>Priceless. </em>The look had been absolutely priceless, and Sakura hadn’t been able to help the thrum of pride which had run through her. He was an utterly terrifying shinobi, and yet she had still made him pull that face, and she was still living and breathing afterwards. He had betrayed Konoha once before, a testament to the name which had been bestowed upon him, but Izuna had helped her see him in a better light, a more <em>human </em>light – unlike the propaganda which had smeared his name.</p><p><em>No doubt the work of Tobirama when he had come to office, </em>or so Izuna had told her snidely as they milled about atop the carved head in his likeness on the cliffside. Izuna had loved going there, <em>because then he was above Tobirama in every sense. </em>But Izuna wasn’t there anymore. She had been selfish, and Sakura couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it. Because he hadn’t been exactly the same as her own Izuna. <em>Because now her son had a chance to get to know his uncle the way he should’ve. </em></p><p>She was only human, the same as Madara. <em>She was allowed to be selfish. </em>They all were. <em>Unless, </em>Sakura felt her nose crinkle, <em>they were Danzo’s mindless morons.</em></p><p>“Sakura-san?”</p><p>Blinking, she shook herself out of her stupor, cursing herself for allowing her attention to wander. <em>What an impression she must be leaving… </em>Though, in her defence, she was surrounded by a mixture of familiarity tinged with strangeness. It was oddly like the world had been flipped upside-down, and Sakura was scrambling to find some purchase. “Yes?” she spoke, praying she hadn’t missed too much in her musings. “Sorry, I think I missed what you just said…”</p><p>“I was just wondering about when I could clear some time in my schedule,” Hashirama said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “The mokuton hasn’t been seen in years within our clan… and rarely has there ever been two inheritors in the same time frame… so I was wondering if – should I be able to clear some time – whether you wanted to compare notes? At least, that’s how Tobi put it,” he mumbled, rambling somewhat towards the end as he shifted between glancing nervously at her and his cousin. “I, uh, hope that wasn’t too forward of me…”</p><p>“No, it wasn’t…” Sakura said, shifting on her feet, hating how awkward they were seeming. <em>But it wasn’t like she had expected the transition into the Senju main family’s life to be seamless. </em>How did one interact with a supposed brother when suspected of being their bastard half-sibling? Mentally, she shrugged. Sadly, things like that would only be more common in the times she was stuck in – what with the need for heirs upon heirs to inherit bloodlines – though really, she hadn’t expected to be in that situation herself. “I guess we could meet in the future to… compare…” she trailed off, hating the ironclad air of awkwardness surrounding the two of them as Senju Touka watched on with what was almost palpable amusement. “But that’s, um, not the reason I came here,” she said, glancing over the paperwork on his desk. “I’m here to register myself as a shinobi of Konohagakure.”</p><p>Hashirama blinked, face lighting up moments later as he dug through the veritable mountains of paperwork beginning to pile up on his desk.  </p><p><em>“The stress did him in,” </em>Tsunade’s words came back to her then, and she swallowed harshly. Senju Hashirama was to be her brother, and she needed to start treating him as such. Fate had given her a miraculous backstory and now it was up to her to move on with it. Adapt and continue, as all shinobi learnt to do.</p><p>She would have to take the reins of the medical sector, in good time of course, after building up a stable foundation. <em>Then she would ensure people knew the dangers of being under constant high stress… as well as numerous other nuances of modern medical care. </em>After all, it had taken until Tsunade appeared for Konoha’s hospital and medical care to truly grow and prosper.</p><p><em>“After Madara left he wasn’t the same…” </em>Tsunade’s words kept floating through her mind. <em>“It was like he’d lost some of the spark in his eyes.” </em></p><p>Sakura let out a low breath. <em>She’d have to ensure that never happened either. </em>Not just because he was Izuna’s brother – the one person he’d loved enough to entrust his eyes to. And eyes meant a lot to the Uchiha Clan. They were a symbol of their power, jealously coveted, and a proof of their love. <em>And how they’d lost it. </em>Still, she wouldn’t be letting Uchiha Madara run off into the great beyond anytime soon. <em>Not least because he had babysitting duties to complete, </em>she mused with a wry grin. <em>Little Sasuke could ground him that much more, given he was family, and Sakura was fairly sure she could claw a place in his family – even if she never meant as much to him as Sasuke did. </em></p><p>Whether he liked it or not, Madara was family. <em>Now and forever. </em>And should he pull a ‘Sasuke’ as Naruto had put it, or an ‘Izuna’ as Sakura had dubbed it from within her mind, then she would be dragging him back, kicking and screaming if she had to. Really though, she certainly could picture Madara doing a lot of kicking and screaming. The thought brought an odd smile to her face. It was strange how happy being in that time, and that place made her. Because she was defined by her own merits, rather than simply being <em>his </em>lover.</p><p>She felt free there, and free she was – to tease Madara, as Izuna had so loved to tell her about. He was one of the few who had ever been graced with one of the so-called happy smiles which were said to occasionally appear on his elder brother’s face. Sakura hoped she would be able to make Madara smile like that in the future, because it was what <em>Izuna </em>would want. Plus, she was curious. Madara always seemed to have a perpetual frown, which occasionally morphed into a scowl which would have most people running for the hills.</p><p>“Do you have a particular specialisation in mind?” Hashirama asked then, seemingly oblivious to Touka’s presence as he tried to hold a conversation with her. “Mokuton tends to lend itself well to either frontline or capture—”</p><p>“I am a medic first and foremost,” she said softly, glancing down at her hands, remembering the feeling which always came with that green glow of her chakra as she performed medical ninjutsu. “I honestly prefer saving lives over taking them.”</p><p>Hashirama’s face broke out into a cheery grin. “That’s a wonderful ideology to have,” he said. “I prefer sparing lives rather than taking them, though Tobi sometimes—oh, never mind,” Hashirama corrected, having seen the split second of tension on her face at the name of his brother. <em>The same name Obito had also borne. </em>“Here are the forms, though I’m afraid you’ll have to visit administration after filling all these details out.”</p><p>Sakura raised an eyebrow. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ there…”</p><p>“Tobi is, um, working in administration today,” Hashirama explained, looking oddly sheepish as he did so. “He’s trying to figure out the filing system, given what our clans currently use is unsuited for larger volumes of individuals… He’s good at figuring out things like that… but he will be there, and he’ll likely be the one to sort your paperwork.”</p><p>Chewing on her lip, she turned her attention onto the paperwork set before her, swiftly filling out all the necessary details. <em>She’d helped Tsunade far too many times to be anything but a master when it came to filling out forms at record speed.</em></p><p>“If you want, you can leave it on my desk… I can pass it over later, if you’d prefer,” Hashirama offered, smiling still, but it was slightly strained as he no doubt recalled the tension between her and Tobirama.</p><p>Sakura only smiled, appreciating the offer, nonetheless. “I can manage this much, don’t worry.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tobirama scowled at the mess before him.</p><p>The administration and the newly installed records room was a complete mess. The numerous files which were currently piled up in the corner of the room pending sorting. The Senju’s methods of sorting via birth date wouldn’t work, if only because some of the birth dates were somewhat foggy – especially when it came to the older shinobi. Similarly, the method of sorting via names which the Uchiha used wouldn’t work. Which meant it was down to him and his big brain to piece together a solution. <em>As per usual. </em></p><p>He sighed, shaking his head as he mulled over the various ideas. <em>Colour coding would hardly help him here, and he could hardly sort the files like he sorted his sealing notes. </em>There was a solution there, somewhere, he just needed to find it, and he needed to find it soon. Before there was another influx of shinobi joining their ranks.</p><p>Yet more peace talks would be beginning sooner rather than later, and he didn’t want to be fumbling around in administration for too long, with files piling up beyond his ears.</p><p>The sound of footsteps met his ears, and that of the door clicking open reached him moments later. “Shiro-san, could you gather the files—”</p><p>“I’m not Shiro-san, whoever that might be,” a feminine, <em>familiar</em> voice sounded, and Tobirama spun around, heart in his throat. “I’m here to register with the forms… though from the looks of things you haven’t had much luck with figuring out an acceptable filing system as of yet.”</p><p>“Haruno—”</p><p>“Sakura, please,” she said, holding out her file to add to the pile. “I’ll allow that much familiarity.”</p><p>“Sakura-san,” he spoke, nodding as he accepted the thin yellowish file, heart sinking at the prospect of more work – and at his <em>sister </em>already leaving. His eyes narrowed, and he ignored the slight throb in his chest. <em>There was still a long way to go—</em></p><p>“Oh, and Tobirama-san,” Sakura said, lingering in the doorway. “Have you considered simply assigning every shinobi a number and sorting them like such?”</p><p>Tobirama blinked, the idea sinking into his brain, and then he slammed his head down on the desk which he was sitting behind. <em>Such a simple idea. So much time wasted on trying to think of a more complex system. </em></p><p>The sound of Sakura’s laughter echoed down the corridor.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The words were blurring together.</p><p>A scowl painted his lips as he tried to focus on his work, a hand absentmindedly petting the soft fluff of a black-haired cat who’d come to visit him at his workplace. The softness was terribly soothing to his addled brain, and he loathed the thought that anyone might catch him snuggling with the adorable little bundle of fluff. He was Uchiha Madara, and he had a reputation to uphold. The clan followed him because he was strong, and he had maintained that veneer of strength throughout thick and thin. <em>Even with the loss of his brother… </em></p><p>Pain split his temples then, a throbbing sensation emanating from behind his eyeballs, and he groaned weakly, concealing the slight indicator of weakness as best he could. Resting his head on the desk in front of him brought him some relief, what with the relative cool of the surface. A sigh escaped him then, and silently, he hoped Tobirama, and possibly Hashirama were suffering along with him.</p><p>He was petty and spiteful like that. Izuna had loved to remind him as such. Pain spiked then again, and he closed his eyes for just a moment, fingers digging into the soft pelt of the cat as images from his nightmares flickered before his eyes yet again. <em>Little Sasuke’s corpse, pale and eyeless. </em>Yet another body for him to bury and mourn. <em>All thanks to those other villages being built. </em></p><p>Villages who would envy their Konohagakure.</p><p>It was well-known that Fire Country held the most prominent kekkei genkai in the entire Elemental Nations. People were greedy. Daimyo even more so. They always wanted <em>more </em>no matter the cost it would take. They wanted more than what others wanted to give. <em>And they took and took and took, until there was nothing left. </em>Until there were only corpses left in their wake, ignorant of the misery inflicted unto others. People couldn’t show each other their true feelings—</p><p>A headful of brown hair, coupled with a beaming smile intruded into his thoughts, and Madara snarled. <em>Maybe he could. </em>He was better than everyone in that manner, and Madara loathed him for it. Yet he couldn’t bear to not call the man a friend. <em>Even as hopelessly optimistic and happy as he was. </em></p><p>Hashirama had always been the optimist.</p><p>It was up to Madara to be the realist.</p><p>And the village wouldn’t bring about the world he dreamed of. He closed his eyes, pinching his nose as he tried to chase away the remnants of that terrible dream. Those images… that scene kept replaying inside his mind.</p><p>Sasuke’s body broken, a battleground littered with the bodies of fallen Uchiha. <em>For Iwagakure. For Konohagakure. </em>The words replayed themselves as if on a loop, and not even stroking the cat on his lap could quieten them. If anything, it made them worse.</p><p>Sighing yet again, he rose to his feet, blinking slowly at the feel of the furry body rubbing against his ankle. It didn’t deter him from walking across the room to crouch before the Uchiha Stone Tablet. Once the shrine was finished completion it would be moved there, but for the time being it was before him.</p><p>Something about it always claimed his attention, like metal to a magnet, moth to flame. It sucked in his attention, always niggling at his brain for some reason. Perhaps because it was simply <em>always </em>there. On the other side of the room. In the forefront of his thoughts. They always circled back to the mystery which was the Uchiha Stone Tablet.</p><p>The incomprehensible letters mocked him, and his sharingan spun then – tomoe shifting and morphing as his Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan spun into existence. The eyes given to him by Izuna. Suddenly, things became slightly more legible, as per usual, but it wasn’t enough. The thought of his nephew, cold and unmoving as he had been in that nightmare had his eyes straining all the harder. It wasn’t like he would go blind. He couldn’t. Izuna had all but ensured that with his sacrifice. He had failed Izuna. He wouldn’t fail Sasuke.</p><p>“Salvation,” he muttered, staring at the word which was suddenly in sharp focus. “The Salvation of the Uchiha Clan…”</p><p>It would save Sasuke. It would save his clan. It had to. Their village… His brow crinkled. Konohagakure wasn’t perfect. It had never been a perfect plan – how could it, when the basis had emerged from two young boys thinking they just needed to unite the strength of their clans to put the others in their places.</p><p>But the tablet before him… the one which had been passed down from their ancestors… It held a secret, a key to happiness. <em>His family would be fine. His dream could be achieved. </em>Just when he had been losing faith in the ability of the village they had created. <em>Because it would become a village designed for war. </em>They hadn’t turned away from their shinobi crafts. The village was simply refining them – a war machine in the making.</p><p>Now he simply needed to decipher the rest of it.</p><p>A meow from by his feet had him turning to the small cat in joy, and he lifted the tiny furry body, light with a newfound hope. “Soon,” he promised, as though he were speaking to his entire clan. “Soon.”</p><p>The cat smiled at him then, yellow eyes twinkling in the dim light of the office.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Madness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The world around her was silent, the sky dark, the bloated moon painted a bloody red – a familiar pattern of black rings and tomoe dancing about within it. It shone down on a derelict land, twisted gnarls of trees and stiff cocoons dangling from the oversized lumber. Atop the tree, a flower bloomed, the air humming with chakra as it <em>sucked </em>and <em>sucked </em>it away from the very life around them. Wind whistled, the sound haunting her very soul as she stared dimly at the scene before her. She recognised it. A vision of what had happened in the future.</p><p>Blinking slowly, Sakura stared down at her hands, brow furrowing in confusion when she spotted the flowing white dress she was wearing. <em>No. </em>She shook her head then, realising in an instant it was just a dream. <em>The culmination of all her fears. </em>A future where she had failed to do anything to make things better. She could almost hear Naruto whispering in her ear, telling her about how much good she could do then and there in that era. She could almost hear Izuna, begging her to save his beloved brother from the path of madness he had ventured down.</p><p>Chains rattled then, caught up and tossed about by the wailing winds, and Sakura stared at the chain which wound up to curl around her throat. Her hands closed around the cold links, eyebrows knitting together as she realised the other end was attached to something. Curious, she turned, still kneeling atop a flat part of the branch high above the rocky ground below.</p><p>White hair fluttered in the wind, wild and free, a demented, <em>achingly familiar </em>grin on his lips, rinnegan shining in his eyes as he caught her startled gaze. The chain wove around his own neck, the links binding them together so very tightly as she stared up at him, the words stolen from her as she just continued to look at him. The sight his figure cut was mesmerising, little parts of it so similar to that of his brother that Sakura couldn’t help but notice them as her heart ached. He was Izuna’s family. <em>She had to love him in some way. </em>She had to… <em>because…</em></p><p>“Sakura-chan,” he crooned, eyes alight with satisfaction, passion, and madness. Her lips moved of their own accord, curving up into a welcoming smile. <em>The same smile she had used to welcome Izuna home after a long mission. </em>He stepped closer to her then, as if pulled by the chain which bound them so, dropping to his knees before her. “We did it,” he murmured, burying his head in her chest. Her arms came up almost on instinct, wrapping around him of their own volition.</p><p>Her eyes widened, spying what had been hidden behind his cutting figure. A throne made from twisted branches. A figure secured in it, small and pale white. She knew him. How could she not recognise her own son? Even as he sat there, cold and lifeless, a line of red slashed across his neck, blackening blood oozing down to stain his clothes.</p><p>Her back met soft grass, hands pushing her down, and she stared up at the sky, the midnight blue blanket dotted with shining stars. The moon a thin white crescent as the scenery changed. Red eyes, three ash black tomoe spinning within their depths, glanced down at her with an unspoken hunger. Black hair fell down, the thin ponytail tickling the side of her neck as the phantom of her long dead husband sat atop her. “Oh, Sakura-chan,” Izuna whispered, closing his eyes as their noses brushed. “Why do you still look at me with those eyes?”</p><p>“Because I love you, Izuna-kun,” she breathed, the words falling from her lips as they once had so many years before. “I think I always will.”</p><p>Izuna breathed out shakily, delicate fingers, calloused from years of work as a shinobi, curling around the fragile bone of her wrists. “You want my love in return, don’t you?” he murmured, and Sakura remembered how long ago she had once stared up at him, so confused as to his strange reaction.</p><p>“Yes,” she said then, no longer blissfully ignorant of what it meant to hold the attention of an Uchiha. <em>And not be born and raised as one. </em>“Of course… if you think you could,” she mumbled shyly, sounding as she had back then – completely clueless as to where everything would go from there. <em>But even if she had a chance to redo everything, she would have still said the same things. Or… perhaps been bolder in what she did.</em></p><p>“There’s a reason Uchiha almost always marry within the clan,” he said, voice still whisper soft. “Truthfully, I thought there would be no one who wanted me… not like you do… not after what I did to avenge my clan… but you still do.” His face was buried in her neck, breath brushing against her cool skin, and Sakura could only shiver. Part of her felt as though she were a bunny rabbit before a wolf, none of her screaming out the way she would had it been anyone bar Izuna who had her trapped against the ground. A low chuckle rent the air, the hairs on the back of her neck rising at the oddly terrifying sound. <em>Sakura loved it. </em>“So be it,” he mumbled, lifting his head then. Sakura saw madness in his eyes. “I will be yours, and you will be mine,” he vowed, resting his forehead against her own. “Forever and always, till death do us part… and you will want for nothing,” Izuna promised, eyes spinning red as they transfixed her so. “Whatever you want, I will give it to you.” Tomoe spun into pinwheels so dark and beautiful even with madness lingering in their depths – a vow. “Even if I have to burn the world to the ground.”</p><p>Her face froze, Sakura trapped within the memory of her past, jerked around like a puppet on strings as the world changed once more, whirling both her and the echo of her dead husband into a spiral of silks and dresses. A macabre dance of madness, where all the participants had those spinning red eyes. Together they spun, clinging to one another, the bloodied red string binding them together winding tighter and tighter. <em>Until it was hard the breathe. </em>Izuna smiled down at her as they danced around the fountain centred at the heart of the strange new battlefield she found herself amidst. <em>A ballroom, of all places. </em></p><p><em>“Remember what I told you all those years ago,” </em>Izuna purred out the words, spinning her under his arm as they drew closer and closer to the rippling, murky waters of the fountain. <em>“An Uchiha’s love is always so terribly twisted and true.” </em>His eyes gleamed with mischief, and Sakura felt a sob choke in her throat. She missed that expression. <em>“Good luck, Sakura-chan,” </em>he whispered, just as the bloodied taut strings which bound them so snapped and she fell back into the waters with a loud splash.</p><p>Down, down, down she went, the light from the world above growing dimmer and dimmer as she sunk headfirst to the bottom. She couldn’t right herself either, trapped, unable to even try and swim back to the surface. She was stuck sinking like an anchor, and she soon spotted the undeniable reason. <em>Because someone waited for her there, with hair as inky as the night sky, skin a pale, lustrous white. His face was the complete opposite of hers – all hard angles and a sharp, cutting beauty, with thin lips set in a natural frown. </em>She knew that face. She had stared at it for far too long far too recently. It haunted her nightmares and her waking hours too. <em>He was clad in black, the polar opposite to the innocent white of her dress.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Oh, darling,” Izuna’s words came to her then, permeating through the still waters, a whisper of an echo of times long past. “If my clan were still alive, they’d eat you alive,” he murmured, and Sakura remembered how he’d said that – head resting on his hands as he looked at her with so very loving eyes. “Well, if they saw this adorable side of you that you let me see so very often…” He had smiled then, such a satisfied and contented one which had filled her with warmth. “How very fortunate they’re not…” Phantom arms wrapped around her, chin nuzzling into her hair. “I have you all to myself.”</em>
</p><p>Eyes opened, irises glowing a brilliant crimson, the far too familiar pattern spinning within – three rings hidden within three tomoes elongated to form yet a larger ring, three branches connecting it to the outermost edge of those bloodied irises. <em>Deadly to look upon, and yet so achingly pretty. </em></p><p>Hands reached for her, guiding her down until forehead met forehead, and Sakura sat up in bed with a gasp, eyes wide, breathing heavily as she leapt out of the clutches of that <em>strange, odd </em>dream. One she wasn’t going to think about in detail. <em>Definitely not. </em>Though she still couldn’t stop herself from wandering out of her room, walking to her son’s room to <em>check. </em></p><p>She couldn’t lose him. She had lost Izuna, and it had taken her years to quash the <em>thing </em>which had rose up inside her and latched onto her son with a frightening intensity because of that gaping loss. It was only fortunate Tobirama hadn’t decided to charge at her with a blade a year or two before. <em>Before she had stuffed the thing into a box deep within her, never to see the light of day again. </em>He was so very fortunate indeed.</p><p>
  <em>Otherwise she would most definitely have slaughtered him where he stood without regard for the role he had yet to play.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He flicked out his blade, cleaning the blood from it with a scowl, before sheathing it once more. His face was grim, mood even more bleak as he gestured at the rest of the little taskforce he’d made to begin cleaning up. Obviously, he was supposed to be in administration, trying to slog through the worst of the paperwork and thinking of more plans for the expansion of their village, but spies just refused to let him do his job. They had begun to start attempting to infiltrate, and Tobirama knew as soon as they allowed more and more civilians in – as his brother’s bleeding heart obviously would – the situation would only become worse. <em>And ultimately harder to monitor.</em></p><p>“Tobirama-sama—?”</p><p>“Burn them,” he ordered, already knowing the question. “There’s nothing identifiable about them, and nobody will claim them.” It wasn’t Senju tradition to cremate their dead – that belonged to the Uchiha – and his clan had long since gotten into the habit of burning their dead enemies. <em>It was certainly less hassle than trying to dig graves for them all. </em>Only Senju were entombed in the ground. “Better for there to be no trace of them left,” he remarked, oddly grateful all of a sudden that there was an Uchiha within the little group he had taken with him. They were far more knowledgeable with fire jutsu and could breathe hotter flames.</p><p>“Cousin,” Touka spoke, and Tobirama spared a glance her way, taking in her flat, somewhat exasperated expression. “This is only going to get worse, isn’t it?” she murmured, closing her eyes, already knowing the answer.</p><p>Tobirama snorted. “Of course,” he said, a frown pulling at his forehead, leaving deep furrows there. “Peace is never easy to come by… and no matter who my brother befriends and brings to our sides… there will always be someone out there who despises us. We will always have enemies, dearest cousin.” He turned on his heel, clapping a hand to her shoulder for a single second. “Do not try and delude yourself otherwise,” he muttered, sighing quietly as he resigned himself to years and years of hunting spies down whenever he managed to sense them coming.</p><p>In hindsight, it was obvious they were from another country no doubt. From a place where no one knew of him nor his abilities within the Senju Clan. Otherwise they would undoubtedly have tried a more sensible, subtler way of scouting out there new village – like by infiltrating the walls as a traveller or a merchant and picking up information that way. That was what he planned to do as soon as he was able. Though it would be likely easier to move some people who were already in deep cover into the other upcoming villages. <em>Well, so long as they permitted ‘civilians’ entry… </em>Tobirama tilted his head then, mulling over plans for the academy. <em>Civilian-born would make for good infiltrators if they were trained correctly. </em>Less risk of important bloodlines falling into the wrong hands.</p><p>“Let me know if you need any help,” Touka said, stirring him from his spiralling thoughts as his mind raced, possible plans and solutions to problems battling about in his brain for space. <em>Truly, it was exhausting… to always have a mind full of various musings and ideas. </em>Though Tobirama supposed that was what he got for dabbling in jutsu and seal creation. “I know what you’re like, dearest cousin,” she muttered matter-of-factly.</p><p>Of course she knew what he was like. She had witnessed him growing up under Butsuma’s less than tender care. <em>Under the hand which had guided him into becoming what he had. </em>Sakura was probably rather luck to have escaped that fate, or so Tobirama thought. Though he supposed it made her acclimatisation to the village that much harder. A frown pulled at his lips, and he allowed himself to get lost in the musings of what might have happened had she grown up as part of the family. A bastard child. <em>But one who would have been rather useful. </em>Tobirama closed his eyes. <em>Well, to his father as a tool for brokering an alliance. </em>He played with the idea, wondering about what she might have been like, had she grown up toddling behind him. <em>Behind Itama and Kawarama. </em>“Stupid,” he scolded himself, pulling himself out of those fanciful thoughts.</p><p>There were better things to be doing than losing himself to his fanciful daydreams. There was a village to help run, defences which needed to be planned and implemented, and more clans set to arrive within the coming weeks. His hand went to his head, fingers smoothing the lines which marred his brow, and simply, he wondered if the work to do pile would ever stop growing. <em>Or at least slow in its ridiculous growth. </em></p><p>But this was for his brother’s dream, so he would do it, no matter the cost. <em>No matter if someone attempted to sabotage the work they had done, </em>he mused, thinking on a certain Uchiha whose chakra, vile and coursing with hatred, he could sense even from the bounds of Konohagakure land. Though his sensory range was undoubtedly large, so perhaps it was no surprise he could feel the man from all the way over there. <em>What horrid chakra. </em>It was probably only his imagination that it seemed to be getting worse. <em>At least he hoped so, and only for his brother’s sake. </em></p><p>Tobirama scoffed at the memory. <em>Hashirama treasured that Uchiha far too much. </em>“We had best get back,” he said, raising his voice then, glancing at the makeshift pyre which was burning brightly in the early morning light. There was still so much to be done.</p><p>He started on his way back then, mindlessly answering Touka whenever she spoke with him, whilst the majority of his brain worked on strategies for overcoming the monumental wall of paperwork which would no doubt be awaiting him upon return. <em>He needed to find some capable secretaries. Shinobi who didn’t mind doing desk work for the foreseeable future. </em>It wouldn’t matter how many shinobi went out on missions to earn money if they didn’t have an administrative system capable of assigning the right missions to people with the correct skill sets, nor if they couldn’t pay their shinobi due to – once again – a lack of desk staff ready to deal with the particularly tedious part of missions.</p><p>His hand snaked into his pouch of supplies, finding the pill the Akimichi had recently come up with. <em>Choked full of the caffeine he would need to survive after the sleepless night he’s just had. </em>He shoved the pill into his mouth, chewing on it, nodding silently at the taste. <em>Truly, it tasted far better than any other soldier pill he’d had before. </em>He tilted head then, musing over asking the Akimichi to become the general suppliers of such pills. <em>They’d pay them the amount – which would have to be collected through taxes. </em>Tobirama stumbled, dread looming over him as he mulled over the prospect of having to adjust tax rates in accordance with mission pay. <em>Specific lump sum, or percentage…? </em></p><p>Dimly, some small part of him questioned his sanity and measured how likely he was to survive the oncoming <em>literal </em>sea of paperwork there would be to sort out and record. Tobirama thought of his bed, his feathered pillow – a luxury he had allowed himself – and he mourned yet another night not spent sleeping.</p><p>But his brother’s dream came first and foremost.</p><p>It always did.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Morning found him waking up beneath a familiar ceiling, and Madara went through notions which had become so very familiar to him by then. He climbed out of bed silently, all too aware of Sakura’s sharp ears as he crept over to check briefly on his nephew. <em>He didn’t care what the bothersome woman told him – it was not creepy or unnecessary. </em>Sometimes he still found himself wondering if he had been caught in some sort of twisted dream, and so he had to check. <em>He had to check that the child of Izuna’s flesh and blood really did exist. </em></p><p>Little Sasuke was undoubtedly real though, sleeping peacefully as he would be for another hour at least. The joys of childhood. <em>A childhood which would be free from war, revenge, and hatred. </em>Or so Hashirama liked to remind him. Though Madara couldn’t quite help the stirrings of unease he could feel building. It was like a rising tide with no end – his unease that was. He was a shinobi through and through, and he knew to trust in his instincts. Rare was it that they betrayed a shinobi.</p><p>However, decidedly out of place was the pink-haired figure sprawled out across the floor beside her son. Green eyes had cracked open along with the door, and Madara scowled as he spotted the irritated expression plastered on her face. Wisely, he turned on his heel, hurrying away and downstairs, all too aware of the figure soon silently following behind him.</p><p>“I was just checking on him,” he declared, wondering why he felt as though he had to defend his actions to her. <em>It wasn’t like she knew about his fears. About the terror which gripped at his heart, his very soul, at the thought of losing the last piece of blood-family he had. The constant fear lingering in his shadow – the fear of failing Izuna yet again through the little boy with his face whom he had been entrusted with. </em>“Not that it’s any of your business.”</p><p>Sakura snorted, the sound of her scepticism grating on his nerves as per usual. “He’s my son. Of course it’s my business when strange men come to stare at him while he sleeps,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“I am <em>not </em>a stranger,” Madara hissed, scowling at her as she walked into the kitchen. She had taking over their cooking, insisting he couldn’t cook for the life of him. <em>A filthy lie. </em>He was capable of cooking, it was simply the flavouring which he had issues with. Not that he had particularly cared of that facet of mealtime. Food had just been energy needed to get him through the day without falling flat on his face and passing out due to a lack of sustenance. “I am his uncle, and you would do well to remember that – and whose roof you currently live under.”</p><p>“Well, I suppose I could always take me and my son over to the Senju part of the village,” she drawled, smirking up at him, green eyes glinting with something he couldn’t quite figure out. <em>Mirth? Defiance? Arrogance? </em></p><p>A snarl ripped from his throat then, half of him howling with rage at the thought of not being able to see his nephew each morning to chase away the remnants of that horrific nightmare which haunted his every waking moment. <em>His </em>nephew. The horrid, loving, greedy part of him having long since laid a claim on the boy. He would not be parted from him. Not willingly. Teeth bared, he slammed a hand to the wall, trapping the insipid little woman <em>who thought she could tear apart the family he had started making </em>there between him and the wall. All the while he stared into those <em>green-green </em>eyes, waiting for her to flinch in fear. Waiting for her to respond to his violence with <em>something. </em>Anything. There was a reason the Uchiha Clan rarely married outsiders, and he waited for the proof of that. The proof that she didn’t understand nor comprehend the depth of the love he had for the little boy named Uchiha Sasuke.</p><p>But he didn’t – couldn’t – see it.</p><p>Instead, all he could see was the same madness reflected back at him, hidden deep within in those glistening green eyes of hers.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Oh, darling Sakura-chan,” Izuna whispered deep in the depths of her mind, a memory come to life. “How did I not see you before? Tell me… how did I not notice you before?” he asked, delight written all over his face as she sat atop him, fingers woven around wrists so much thicker than her own.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sakura only smiled, a twisted thing she had long since kept hidden. Something which only rose at the threat of losing something or someone she cared so deeply about. Something she kept buried otherwise. “You come back to me,” she whispered, nose to nose with him. “You come back to me... Otherwise I’ll raze this world to the ground.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I love you too,” he purred, and Sakura felt her smile widen, and then she pressed her own lips to his ever so gently, letting herself loose once more.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I feel like I should inform (or remind) you at this point that there's a reason I called this work 'An Uchiha's Love', and I might have to end up slipping in an 'Unhealthy Relationships' tag or something of that sort if I feel the situation calls for this. This wonderful work of mine might have the 'Fluff' and 'Falling in Love' tags, but this eventual love between them might be... somewhat strange, and somewhat intense.</p><p>I mean, the fact that Madara kidnapped Sakura and her son in the beginning should have been the first clue. (And yes, I'm still annoyed that someone thought it was something done out of true love, or to show Madara was so in love with her, and that I was deluding twelve-year-olds into thinking kidnapping is a declaration of true love. Please. It was to show Madara's damned instability at the time along with his desperation to have a family once more. But it seemed the kidnapping triggered my dear guest reader - which brings up another something I'll get to in a moment.)</p><p>Anyhow, annoyance over.</p><p>For some reason I thoroughly enjoy making the Uchiha's definition of romance somewhat different and madder than what most people constitute. So... yeah... this might be exploring that... can I call it a headcanon? Meh. So yeah, in case you didn't realise, this work will be diving into that matter a bit, which might get me to add some more tags so people are more aware of what they're signing up for. Though admittedly I have a trigger warning (and full explanation for why I had Madara drag Sakura back forcefully) on chapter three now. If you think anything else needs a trigger warning, then please (politely) inform me... because I'm sort of terrible of coming up with trigger warnings because I've never really been triggered by anything before, weirdly enough.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>SPORADIC UPDATES</p></blockquote></div></div>
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